THE  BROKEN   HEART 


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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


THE   BROKEN   HEART 


JOHN   F 


(>ri5n 


EDITED    WITH 

NOTES  AND  INTRODUCTION 


CLINTON    SCOLLARD 

Professor  of  EngUsh  Literature  in  Hamilton  College 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY   HOLT  AND  COMPANY 
1895 


Copyright,  1894, 


HENRY   HOLT  &  CO. 


THE    MERSHON   COMPANY    PRESS, 
RAHWAY,  N.  J. 


INTRODUCTION. 


I. 

The  most  patient  and  persistent  search  into  the 
lives  of  the  old  English  dramatists  is  often  but 
meagerly  rewarded.  Wide  and  perplexing  gaps  must 
be  filled  by  the  imagination,  or,  as  it  were,  a  fitting 
garment  of  fancy  fashioned  for  the  bare  and  broken 
skeleton  of  fact.  Such  is  the  case  with  John  Ford. 
The  dramatist  was  the  second  son  of  Thomas  Ford, 
his  mother  being  the  sister  of  John  Popham,  Lord 
Chief  Justice  under  James  I.  The  Ford  family  was 
one  of  good  standing  in  Devonshire,  where,  at  Ilsing- 
ton,  John  Ford  was  baptized  on  the  17th  of  April, 
1586.  What  schooling  he  had  was  obtained  in  or 
near  his  native  town.  If  he  went  to  either  of  the  great 
universities  he  could  hardly  have  remained  more  than 
one  or  two  terms,  for  he  was  enrolled  as  a  member  of 
the  Middle  Temple  in  November,  1602.  Popham  had 
been  appointed  treasurer  of  this  organization  twenty 
years  earlier,  and  it  has  been  conjectured  that  he 
took  an  active  interest  in  his  young  relative.  A  cousin 
and  namesake  had  preceded  the  poet  in  London  as  a 
member  of  Gray's  Inn,  and  between  the  two  there 
appears  to  have  existed  an  intimacy  and  affection 
almost  brotherly.     Though  he  retained  his  connection 


1  ^'  IN  TR  OD  UC  TIOM. 

witli  the  Temple,  there  is  no  evidence  to  show  that 
Ford  was  ever  called  to  the  bar.  In  addressing  his 
patrons,  several  of  whom  were  men  of  rank,  he  not 
infrequently  alludes  to  his  determination  not  to  allow 
his  ambitions  as  a  dramatist  to  interfere  with  his 
regular  occupation.  From  this  it  is  seen  that  he  did 
not  depend  upon  play-writing  for  support.  It  has 
been  inferred  that  he  looked  after  the  legal  interests 
of  large  landed  estates,  doubtless  acting  as  advisor  in 
matters  requiring  a  knowledge  of  jurisprudence.  A 
line  in  the  prologue  to  the  comedy,  Fancies  Chaste 
and  Noble,  has  led  some  to  conclude  that  at  the  time 
the  play  was  produced  the  author  was  probably  travel- 
ing upon  the  Continent,  but  there  is  no  proof  that  he 
ever  crossed  the  Channel.  In  regard  to  his  retirement 
from  London,  and  his  death,  nothing  very  satisfactory 
can  be  stated.  It  is  commonly  affirmed  that  he  with- 
drew from  the  Temple  in  1639,  and  that  he  then 
sought  his  native  town,  having  amassed  a  considerable 
fortune,  and  thinking  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  life 
in  quiet.  According  to  one  tradition  he  married  and 
had  children,  but  this  is  hardly  to  be  credited.  The 
troublous  times  which  followed  his  withdrawal  from 
the  active  world  obscured  much  that  otherwise  would 
be  clear.  It  is  quite  possible  that  Ford  was  in  his 
grave  before  the  oncoming  of  these  evil  days,  but  if 
he  was  not,  the  stress  of  events  was  sufficient  to  veil 
the  close  of  his  life,  like  that  of  many  another,  in 
oblivion. 

Of  the  dramatist's  personality  almost  nothing  is 
known.  Because  his  fancy  led  him  to  the  choice  of 
somber  themes  it  has  been  assumed  that  he  was  of 


TX  TROD  UC  no  AT.  V 

a  melancholy  temperament.  This  idea  has  been 
strengthened  by  the  often  quoted  couplet  from  a  con- 
temporary rhymer  : 

"  Deep  in  a  dump  John  Ford  was  alone  got  (gat), 
With  folded  arms  and  melancholy  hat." 

This,  however,  may  have  been  intended  simply  as 
a  caricature.  The  idea  that  an  early  love-affair,  re- 
ferred to  in  Fames  Memorial,  may  have  influenced 
him  deeply,  and  induced  a  settled  moodiness,  may, 
with  safety,  be  dismissed.  Poets,  and  especially 
young  poets,  have  always  been  prone  to  prate  of 
their  imaginary  blighted  hopes,  and  Ford's  "  flint- 
hearted  Lycia  "  probably  caused  him  little  more  than 
a  passing  pang,  if,  in  fact,  she  ever  actually  existed. 
But  that  Ford's  mind  was  of  a  serious  cast  his  curious 
little  manual  for  every  day  conduct,  T/ie  Line  of  Life, 
abundantly  proves.  He  appears  to  have  been  upon 
reasonably  good  terms  with  his  fellow  playwrights 
and  poets,  as  several  commendatory  verses  upon  his 
plays  by  such  men  as  Crashaw  and  Shirley  are  extant, 
and  Ford  himself  was  one  of  those  who  burst  into 
mourning  song  at  the  death  of  Ben  Jonson,  whom  he 
saw  fit  to  style  "  the  best  of  English  poets." 

II. 

Although  Ford  may  be  said  to  represent  the 
period  of  dramatic  decline,  it  is  indeed  a  splendid 
decadence  that  can  boast  of  such  plays  as  Massinger's 
Maid  of  Honour,  Shirley's  Traitor,  and  Yard's  Broken 
Heart.    Compared  with  the  best  work  of  the  Restora- 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

tion  playwrights  these  dramas  are  of  the  very  highest 
order.  It  is  only  when  we  contrast  them  with  the 
plays  of  the  master  dramatist  of  all  time  that  their 
true  middle  position  is  established. 

So  far  as  we  know,  Ford  first  challenged  public 
recognition  as  a  poet  in  1606  with  his  Fames  Memo- 
rial, an  elegiac  poem  of  considerable  length  upon 
Charles  Blount,  Earl  of  Devonshire.  Why  the  young 
poet  singled  out  this  nobleman  for  the  subject  of  his 
ingenious  stanzas  we  cannot  say.  Blount,  though 
a  man  of  much  prominence,  had  died  in  disgrace,  and 
it  does  not  appear  that  Ford  was  acquainted  either 
with  him  or  with  the  countess  to  whom  he  dedicated 
his  elegiacs  in  a  hopelessly  involved  acrostic,  "  the 
worst,"  according  to  Gifford,  "  that  ever  passed  the 
press."  There  is  nothing  whatever  here  to  presage 
the  future  dramatist.  A  command  of  measure  and 
of  poetic  phraseology  indicates,  however,  that  the 
author  had  served  his  apprenticeship.  According  to 
the  dramatist's  own  statement  his  play.  The  Lover  s 
MelancJioly,  published  in  1629,  was  "  the  first  of  his 
that  ever  courted  reader."  But  during  the  twenty- 
three  years  that  intervened  between  the  appearance 
of  Fame's  Memorial  and  this  piece,  he  certainly  had 
been  heard  upon  the  stage,  if  not  read  in  the  closet. 
Indeed  it  is  highly  probable  that  his  name,  though 
in  conjunction  with  others,  had  been  seen  upon  the 
title-page  of  dramas  now  lost.  There  are  extant 
seven  plays  entirely  of  Ford's  composition,  and  an 
additional  two  in  which  he  assisted.  Decker  being  his 
collaborator  in  one  instance,  and  Rowley  and  Decker 
in  the  other.     At  least  four  more  are  entered  under 


IN  TROD  UC  TIOX.  VI  l 

his  name  upon  the  Stationer's  books,  and  the  titles  of 
three  others  in  which  he  had  a  hand  have  been  pre- 
served. Assuming  that  these  dramas  constitute  the 
entire  bulk  of  his  labors  (which  is  not  probable),  we 
have,  by  which  to  judge  him,  something  more  than 
half  of  his  actual  production.  On  the  theory,  perhaps, 
of  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  it  has  been  argued  that  the 
best  of  his  work  has  come  down  to  us,  and  it  may  be 
that  this  is  a  safe  presumption. 

Ford's  masterpiece  is  unquestionably  The  Broken 
Heart,  and  whether  it  merits  the  somewhat  extrava- 
gant praise  bestowed  upon  it  by  Charles  Lamb,  it 
certainly  sets  before  us  in  a  vivid  way  some  of  the 
most  powerful  human  emotions  :  love,  sorrow,  hatred, 
and  despair.  Fewer  of  the  dramatist's  prevailing  faults 
are  here  evident  than  in  any  other  of  his  plays  save 
Perkin  Warbeck.  He  may  not  rise  to  such  heights  in 
single  scenes,  or  in  detached  passages,  as  elsewhere, 
but  in  general  effect  he  is  more  harmonious  and  pow- 
erful. "  Mock  pathos  "  is  one  of  the  most  serious 
charges  that  has  been  urged  against  Ford,  and  though 
it  be  granted  that  in  some  instances  the  tenderness 
may  seem  strained, and  the  agony  prolonged  with  melo- 
dramatic intent,  these  objections  do  not  hold  against 
the  portrayal  of  the  sorrows  of  Calantha  and  the 
woes  of  Penthea.  In  the  prologue  the  dramatist  is 
careful  to  state  that  the  story 

"  When  Time's  youth 
Wanted  some  riper  years,  was  known  a  Truth." 

It  is,  however,  certain  that  he  did  not  draw  the  tale 
from  historical  sources.     Prolific  as  Sparta  may  have 


VIU  INTRODUCTION. 

been  in  tragedies,  it  never  was  the  scene  of  this  one. 
If,  as  Ford  says,  the  incidents  were  not  of  his  own  in- 
vention, he  doubtless  found  them,  or  the  suggestions 
from  which  the  plot  grew,  in  the  now  lost  romance 
of  some  Spanish  or  Italian  writer.  What  seems  not 
improbable  is  that,  like  many  another  author  since,  he 
sought  to  add  to  the  effect  of  his  fiction  by  boldly 
claiminga  basis  of  fact  for  it.  At  least  he  merits  high 
praise  for  the  elaboration,  the  skillful  fitting  together, 
the  general  working  out  of  the  whole.  He  expended 
much  more  pains  upon  details  than  was  common  with 
him.  The  subordinate  characters  are  more  fully  and 
carefully  developed,  and  the  scenes  follow  one  another 
with  a  more  natural  sequence.  Then,  too,  the  mo- 
ments of  passion,  of  the  poet's  fine  frenzy,  are  more 
frequent  than  in  other  plays.  There  is  far  less  that  is 
evidently  studied.  Ford  is  not  a  poet  who  often  gives 
us  the  impression  of  having  struck  off  a  scene  or  an 
act  at  white  heat.  We  are  too  likely  to  feel  that  his 
is  the  work  of  the  cunning  craftsman  who  has  weighed 
and  calculated  the  effect  of  word,  line,  and  passage. 
But  this  is  not  so  in  the  case  of  The  Broken  Heart. 
Here  there  is  something  more  than  the  most  perfect 
artifice,  that  fine  touch  of  the  emotions  of  which  we  are 
so  frequently  and  so  thrillingly  conscious  in  reading 
Shakespere,  and  which  we  too  often  just  miss  in 
Ford. 

Ford's  other  tragedies,  '  Tis  Pity  She's  a  Whore  and 
Love's  Sacrifice,  are  not  likely  to  attract  the  casual 
reader,  but  to  the  student  of  the  dramatist  both  are 
interesting.  Unfortunate  in  title  and  revolting  in 
subject  as  is  the  first-named  play,  it  is  not   fair  to 


IN  TROD  UC  TION.  IX 

Ford  for  us  to  allow  our  natural  prejudice  against  it 
to  obscure  its  manifest  merits.  The  drama  unques- 
tionably contains  some  of  the  author's  strongest  writ- 
ing. The  story,  taken,  like  that  of  Love's  Sacrifice, 
from  an  Italian  source,  tells  of  a  brother  and  sister 
who  conceive  a  mad  passion  for  one  another,  and 
abandon  themselves  with  what  Jeffrey  calls  "  a  splen- 
did and  perverted  devotedness  "  to  their  unlawful 
loves.  Ultimately  the  sister  is  forced  into  marriage, 
and  the  husband  discovers  his  wife's  guilt.  What 
could  arise  from  so  horrible  a  situation  save  despair, 
frenzy,  and  murder?— a  fitting  close  for  so  dreadful 
a  chapter  of  events.  The  question  likely  to  suggest 
itself  after  the  perusal  of  this  awful  tragedy  is— should 
such  a  succession  of  scenes  be  made  the  subject  of 
the  playwright's  art  ?  It  has  been  said,  "  better  no 
dramas  at  all  than  those  with  such  disgusting  themes ! " 
an  opinion  with  which  one  is  inclined  to  concur.  Yet 
it  must  be  granted  that  Ford  has  managed  the  plot 
both  with  dexterity  and  dignity,  considering  the 
delicate  matter  he  has  in  hand.  While  we  turn  from 
Giovanni  with  repulsion  and  loathing,  toward  the  un- 
fortunate and  distracted  Arabella  our  sympathies  are 
unconsciously  drawn.  In  the  scene  where  the  sister 
meets  death  from  her  brother's  dagger  the  dramatist 
reaches  the  climax  of  tragic  power.  No  passage  from 
any  of  the  old  playwrights,  save  certain  memorable 
ones  in  Shakespere  and  two  or  three  in  Webster, 
conveys  more  of  what  might  be  termed  the  inevitable- 
ness  of  doom  than  this. 

Few  graces  save  those  of  expression  are  discover- 
able in  Love's  Sacrifice,  \^\(\\t  all  of  Ford's  most  prom- 


X  I,V  TR  OD  UC  TIOiY. 

inent  faults  are  evident.  On  Bianca,  the  most  con- 
spicuous female  character,  not  a  little  false  sentiment 
is  wasted.  Though  not  in  act  a  traitor  to  her  husband, 
she  certainly  is  so  at  heart,  yet  toward  the  close  of  the 
play  she  is  spoken  of  as  living  "  a  life  of  innocence 
and  beauty."  The  whole  situation  is  inconceivable. 
A  woman,  at  first  represented  as  deeply  attached  to 
her  husband,  suddenly  and  without  apparent  reason 
is  seized  with  a  violent  infatuation  for  another.  The 
other,  up  to  this  moment  fervent  and  ardent  in  the 
protestations  of  his  passion,  is  all  at  once  as  "  chaste 
as  ice."  The  husband's  jealousy  is  basel)'^  aroused, 
and  a  sanguinary  sequel  is  the  result.  Not  only  is  the 
main  thread  of  this  play  exceedingly  ill-woven,  but 
the  tangled  underplot,  in  which  Ford  is  rarely  fortu- 
nate, is  here  more  than  usually  lacking  in  refinement. 
Perkin  Warbeck,  Ford's  one  history  or  chronicle 
play,  stands  easily  second  to  The  Broken  Heart  in 
clearness  of  outline,  carefulness  of  detail,  and  com- 
pleteness of  general  conception.  It  is  one  of  the  few 
dramas  of  its  class  that  will  bear  comparison  with 
Shakespere's  matchless  transcripts  from  the  actual 
life  of  the  past.  The  hero  is  the  best  male  character 
we  have  from  Ford's  pen.  Whatever  the  young  pre- 
tender to  the  English  throne  may  really  have  been, 
we  behold,  in  the  dramatist's  portrait  of  him,  a  noble 
youth  of  single  purpose,  who  believes  implicity  in  his 
right  to  the  crown,  and  who  goes  to  his  death  main- 
taining that  right.  There  is  no  inconsistency  in  the 
poet's  picture.  Warbeck  enlists  our  sympathies  at  the 
outset,  and  our  interest  in  him  never  flags  through  all 
his  vicissitudes  until  he  gives  up  his  life  on  Tower  Hill. 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

We  are  not  surprised  that  the  charming  Lady  Kath- 
erine  listens  so  readily  to  his  avowals,  for  in  him 
appear  to  be  united  the  gallantry  of  the  lover,  the 
dignity  of  the  rightful  sovereign,  and  the  tenderness 
and  valiant  manliness  of  the  true  gentleman.  Here, 
too,  as  in  Ford's  masterpiece,  the  lesser  characters  are 
well  defined — the  just  and  genial  Huntley,  the  leal 
and  brave  Daryell,  the  vacillating  Scotch  monarch, 
all,  in  fact,  show  the  same  painstaking  execution. 
This  is  a  canvas  whose  minor,  as  well  as  whose  major, 
figures  will  bear  the  closest  scrutiny. 

Of  Ford's  three  romantic  comedies  The  Lover's 
Melancholy  is  clearly  the  best  ;  and  while  the  play  is 
by  no  means  a  strong  one,  there  is  much  about  it 
that  is  singularly  attractive.  In  spite  of  the  slight 
reminiscences  it  betrays  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's 
Fhilaster,  there  is  but  little  exaggeration  in  the  state- 
ment that  here  Ford  has  met  and  equaled  his  brother 
dramatists  in  their  own  chosen  field.  It  would  seem 
as  though  the  poet  had  deliberately,  at  times,  retarded 
the  rapid  development  of  the  plot  in  order  to  beautify 
the  story.  Nowhere  else  does  Ford  give  a  hint  of 
what  he  might  have  accomplished  had  he  attempted 
narrative  verse  writing.  His  apparently  keen  sense 
of  the  romantic  surprises  us  ;  not  so,  however,  his 
touches  of  pathos,  though  these  are  of  a  far  softer 
and  less  harrowing  nature  than  in  The  Broken  Heart. 
Insanity  was  something  that  most  of  the  Elizabethans 
from  Kyd  downward  were  fond  of  attempting  to  por- 
tray, and  sorry  work  many  of  them  made  of  it. 
Ford  can  hardly  be  said  to  approach  Shakespere  in 
this    particular,   or   possibly   even   Webster   in   that 


xil  IN  TROD  UC  TION. 

notable  scene  in  The  White  Devil  (Cornelia  at  the 
bier  of  Marcello),  but  Penthea  demented  is  not  so 
far  removed  from  Ophelia,  and  old  Meleander  in  The 
Lover  s  Melancholy,  with  mind  unbalanced  through 
grief  at  the  supposed  death  of  his  favorite  daughter,  is 
vastly  above  the  ordinary  stage  madman.  The  chief 
male  characters  in  this  play  lack  stamina,  and  are 
little  better  than  lackadaisical,  moon-struck  lovers. 
Ford's  genius  was  not  of  the  masculine  type  like  that 
of  Massinger.  Except  Perk  in  Warbeck,  and  a  few 
others,  his  men  are  either  coxcombs  or  weaklings, 
somehow  wanting  in  strong  moral  force.  It  is  in  the 
delineation  of  the  female  character  that  we  find  Ford 
in  his  element.  His  knowledge  of  the  motives,  the 
springs  of  action,  that  move  the  feminine  heart  was 
both  deep  and  intimate.  Among  the  most  attractive 
of  his  women  are  the  sisters  Eroclea  and  Cleophila  in 
The  Lover's  Melancholy.  Neither;  strictly  speaking, 
is  of  the  heroic  mold,  but  both  are  thoroughly 
natural  and  charming.  Eroclea,  in  spite  of  her 
youth's  disguise  and  her  assumed  mannishness,  is 
naive  and  fascinating,  with  a  dash  of  real  bravery, 
while  Cleophila's  devotion  to  her  insane  father  is 
especially  touching.  A  different  quality  of  devotion, 
and  one  that  excites  our  admiration  more  keenly,  is 
that  shown  by  Katherine  Gordon  to  her  husband, 
Perkin  Warbeck.  Whatever  the  world  may  say  of 
him,  her  belief  in  his  truth  and  honor  is  not  to  be 
shaken,  and  he  goes  to  his  execution  strengthened  by 
her  loving  faith.  Penthea's  patient  endurance  and 
Calantha's  sublime  stoicism  combine  to  make  "  a 
monument  of  sorrows  "  that  has  few  counterparts  on 


IN  TROD  UCTION.  XUI 

the  pages  of  tragedy.  Arabella,  despite  the  terrible 
character  of  her  guilt,  moves  to  pity,  and  even  in 
Bianca,  Ford's  one  signal  failure  in  his  portrayal  of 
femineity,  when  we  have  once  accepted  the  impossible 
change  that  comes  over  her,  there  is  something  finely 
daring.  It  is  a  misguided  heroism  which  leads  her  to 
tell  her  husband  to  his  face  that,  while  she  is  true  to 
him,  she  holds  Fernando  infinitely  above  him  as  a 
man,  but  it  is  heroism  nevertheless.  To  the  gallery 
of  Ford's  heroines  two  others  might  be  added,  Spinella 
from  The  Ladys  Trial  and  Castamela  from  Fancies 
Chaste  and  Noble,  characters  whose  purity  and  charm 
serve  to  relieve  the  dullness  of  two  poorly  con- 
structed and  otherwise  objectionable  plays.  Ford's 
conception  of  woman  was  upon  a  vastly  higher  plane 
than  the  view  taken  of  her  by  his  contemporaries,  and 
it  is  only  in  the  pages  of  Shakespere  that  we  meet 
with  braver,  more  refined,  and  loftier  types. 

Gifford's  characterization  of  Ford's  humor  as  "  a 
dull  medley  of  extravagance  and  impurity  "  is  not 
inapt.  Surely  poet  never  wrote  who  lacked  to  a 
greater  degree  the  true  sense  of  the  humorous,  yet 
who  persisted  in  introducing  characters  intended  to 
be  comic.  In  some  of  the  plays  the  alleged  comical- 
ities are  not  offensive,  as  in  the  case  of  the  rival 
lovers,  Guzman  and  Fulgoso,  in  The  Ladys  Trial. 
Their  fun  consists  in  strutting  both  with  legs  and 
tongue,  and  in  berating  one  another  most  roundly 
when  they  can  find  no  one  else  to  abuse.  Too  often, 
however,  inoffensive  is  a  term  that  cannot  be  ap- 
plied to  Ford's  intended  pleasantries.  The  dramatist 
who  could  end  the  death  agonies  of  several  of  his  most 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

prominent  characters  with  a  long  drawn  out  "  O — O  " 
must  have  been  quite  as  sadly  lacking  in  the  sense  of 
the  ridiculous  as  the  noted  seer  and  singer  who  wrote  : 

"  Only  the  ass  with  motion  dull 
Upon  the  pivot  of  his  skull 

Turned  round  his  long  left  ear." 

Ford's  diction  is  uniformly  felicitous.  Unless  it  be 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  no  dramatists  of  his  day 
have  a  greater  grace  of  phrase.  He  caught  from 
Shakespere,  perhaps,  the  art  of  vivifying  a  whole 
paragraph  by  a  single  daring  metaphor  or  verbal 
transposition,  erring  sometimes  in  taste,  to  be  sure, 
but  generally  effecting  his  end.  Even  into  the 
mouths  of  some  of  his  most  senseless  comic  char- 
acters he  occasionally  puts  such  happy  turns  of 
expression  as  these  : 

"  Her  fair  eyes 
Like  to  a  pair  of  pointed  beams  drawn  from 
The  sun's  most  glorious  orb,  do  dazzle  sight, 
Audacious  to  gaze  there  :  then  over  those 
A  several  bow  of  jet  securely  twines 
In  semicircles;  under  them  two  banks 
Of  roses  red  and  white,  divided  by 
An  arch  of  polished  ivory,  surveying 
A  temple  from  whence  oracles  proceed 
More  gracious  than  Apollo's,  more  desired 
Than  amorous  songs  of  poets,  softly  tuned." 

Ford's  rendering  of  the  classical  legend  of  the 
musical  strife  between  the  nightingale  and  the  musi- 
cian, introduced  into  the  first  act  of  The  Lovers 
Melancholy,  will   further  serve  to  illustrate  the  rare 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

harmony  and    beauty  of    diction  of   which   he   was 
capable  : 

"  One  morning  early 
This  accident  encountered  me  :  I  heard 
The  sweetest  and  most  ravishing  contention 
That  art  and  nature  ever  were  at  strife  in. 

A  sound  of  music  touched  my  ears,  or  rather 
Indeed  entranced  my  soul.     As  I  stole  nearer, 
Invited  by  the  melody,  I  saw 
This  youth,  this  fair-faced  youth,  upon  his  lute, 
With  strains  of  strange  variety  and  harmony. 
Proclaiming,  as  it  seemed,  so  bold  a  challenge 
To  the  clear  choristers  of  the  woods,  the  birds, 
That,  as  they  flocked  about  him,  all  stood  silent. 

...    A  nightingale. 
Nature's  best-skilled  musician,  undertakes 
The  challenge,  and  for  every  several  strain 
The  well-shaped  youth  could  touch,  she  sung  her  own  : 
He  could  not  run  division  with  more  art 
Upon  his  quaking  instrument  than  she, 
The  nightingale,  did  with  her  various  notes 
Reply  to  :    ... 

Some  time  thus  spent,  the  young  man  grew  at  last 
Into  a  pretty  anger,  that  a  bird. 
Whom  art  had  never  taught  clefs,  moods,  or  notes, 
Should  vie  with  him  for  mastery,  whose  study 
Had  busied  many  hours  to  perfect  practice  : 
To  end  the  controversy,  in  a  rapture 
Upon  his  instrument  he  plays  so  swiftly, 
So  many  voluntaries  and  so  quick. 
That  there  was  curiosity  and  cunning, 
Concord  in  discord,  lines  of  differing  method 
Meeting  in  one  full  center  of  delight. 

.   .   .   The  bird,  ordained  to  be 
Music's  first  martyr,  strove  to  imitate 
These  several  sounds  ;  which  when  her  warbling  throat 
Failed  in,  for  grief  down  dropped  she  on  his  lute. 
And  brake  her  heart.     It  was  the  quaintest  sadness, 


XVi  IX  TROD  UC  TION. 

To  see  the  conqueror  upon  her  hearse 
To  weep  a  funeral  elegy  of  tears  ; 

He  looked  upon  the  trophies  of  his  art, 
Then  sighed,  then  wiped  his  eyes,  then  sighed  and  cried, 
'  Alas,  poor  creature  !  I  will  soon  revenge 
This  cruelty  upon  the  author  of  it  ; 
Henceforth  this  lute,  guilty  of  innocent  blood, 
Shall  never  more  betray  a  harmless  peace 
To  an  untimely  end  :  '  and  in  that  sorrow, 
And  as  he  was  pashing  it  against  a  tree, 
I  suddenly  slept  in." 

Though  Whistanley  states  that  Ford's  plays  were 
profitable  to  the  managers  of  the  theaters  where  they 
were  produced,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  he  was 
ever  a  popular  writer.  In  the  garden  of  his  fancy  he 
cultivated  too  many  mournful  blossoms,  the  rue,  the 
night-shade,  and  the 

"  Amaranth,  flower  of  Death." 

The  ways  of  sorrow  he  made  his  own,  and  the 
children  of  grief  were  his  familiars.  Where  the  forest 
shades  of  woe  were  deepest  the  sound  of  that  delicate 
instrument,  his  lute,  was  natural,  plaintive,  melan- 
choly, pity-evoking,  but  in  the  mirthful  sunlight  it 
was  too  often  strained  and  out  of  tune.  We  can  but 
think  of  Ford's  muse  as  of  one  sad-eyed  and  lorn, 

"  Like  Niobe,  all  tears." 

Touching  at  certain  points,  now  Shakespere,  now 
Marston,  now  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  and  most 
resembling  the  gloom-enshrouded  Webster  in  the 
bent  of  his  genius,  he  yet  stands  apart  from  them  all, 
an  isolated  figure,  wrapped  in  the  mantle  of  his  darkly 
contemplative  temperament. 


Thou  cheat'st  us,  Ford  :  mak'st  one  seem  two  by  art  : 
What  is  Love's  Sacrifice  but  the  Broken  Heart  ? 

Richard  Crashaw, 


PROLOGUE. 

Our  scene  is  Sparta.     He  whose  best  of  art 
Hath  drawn  this  piece  calls  it  The  Broken  Heart. 
The  title  lends  no  expectation  here 
Of  apish  laughter,  or  of  some  lame  jeer 
At  place  or  persons  ;  no  pretended  clause  5 

Of  jests  fit  for  a  brothel  court's  applause 
From  vulgar  admiration  :  such  low  songs, 
Tuned  to  unchaste  ears,  suit  not  modest  tongues. 
The  virgin-sisters  then  deserved  fresh  bays 
When  innocence  and  sweetness  crowned  their  lays  ; 
Then  vices    gasped    for  breath,   whose    whole  com- 
merce II 
Was  whipped  to  exile  by  unblushing  verse. 
This  law  we  keep  in  our  presentment  now, 
Not  to  take  freedom  more  than  we  allow  ; 
What  may  be  here  thought  Fiction,  when  Time's  youth 
Wanted  some  riper  years,  was  known  a  Truth  :         16 
In  which,  if  words  have  clothed  the  su'oject  right. 
You  may  partake  a  pity  with  delight. 


DRAMATIS  PERSON.^. 

Amyclas,  King  of  Laconia. 
Ithocles,  a  Favourite. 
Orgilus,  Son  of  Crotolon. 
Bassanes,  a  jealous  Nobleman. 
Armostes,  a  Counsellor  of  State. 
Crotolon,  another  Counsellor. 
Prophilus,  friend  of  Ithocles. 
Nearchus,  Prince  of  Argos. 
Tecnicus,  a  Philosopher. 

Hemophil,  )  ^ 

_,  y  Courtiers. 

Groneas,     ) 

Amelus,  Friend  of  Nearchus. 

Phulas,  Servant  to  Bassanes. 

Lords,  Courtiers,  Officers,  Attendants,  &c. 

Calantha,  Daughter  of  Amyclas. 

Penthea,  Sister  of  Ithocles  and  Wife  of  Bassanes. 

EuPHRANEA,  Daughter  of  Crotolon,  a  Maid  of  honour. 

Christalla,  )  ,,  . , 

^  y  Maids  of  honour. 

Philema,        ) 

Grausis,  Overseer  of  Penthea. 

SCENE— Sparta. 


THE  BROKEN  HEART. 


ACT  THE  FIRST. 

Scene  I.     A  Room  in  Crotolon's  House. 

Enter  Crotolon  and  Orgilus. 

Crot.     Dally  not  further  ;  I  will  know  the  reason 
That  speeds  thee  to  this  journey. 

Org.  Reason  !  good  sir, 

I  can  yield  many. 

Crot.  Give  me  one,  a  good  one  ; 

Such  I  expect,  and  ere  we  part  must  have  : 
Athens  !  pray,  why  to  Athens  ?  you  intend  not  5 

To  kick  against  the  world,  turn  cynic,  stoic, 
Or  read  the  logic-lecture,  or  become 
An  Areopagite,  and  judge  in  cases 
Touching  the  commonwealth  ;  for,  as  1  take  it, 
The  budding  of  your  chin  cannot  prognosticate       10 
So  grave  an  honour. 

Org.  All  this  I  acknowledge. 

Crot.     You   do  !  then,   son,   if  books  and   love  of 
knowledge 
Inflame  you  to  this  travel,  here  in  Sparta 
You  may  as  freely  study. 

Org.  'Tis  not  that,  sir. 


6  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

dot.    Not  that,  sir  !     As  a  father,  I  command  thee 
T'  acquaint  me  with  the  truth. 

Org.  Thus  I  obey  )'e.     i6 

After  so  many  quarrels  as  dissension, 
Fury,  and  rage  had  broached  in  blood,  and  sometimes 
With  death  to  such  confederates  as  sided 
With  now-dead  Thrasus  and  yourself,  my  lord  ;       20 
Our  present  king,  Amyclas,  reconciled 
Your  eager  swords  and  sealed  a  gentle  peace  ; 
Friends  you  professed  yourselves  ;  which  to  confirm, 
A  resolution  for  a  lasting  league 
Betwixt  your  families  was  entertained,  25 

By  joining  in  a  Hymenean  bond 
Me  and  the  fair  Penthea,  only  daughter 
To  Thrasus, 

Crot.  What  of  this  ? 

Org.  Much,  much,  dear  sir. 

A  freedom  of  converse,  an  interchange 
Of  holy  and  chaste  love,  so  fixed  our  souls  30 

In  a  firm  growth  of  union,  that  no  time 
Can  eat  into  the  pledge  :  we  had  enjoyed 
The  sweets  our  vows  expected,  had  not  cruelty 
Prevented  all  those  triumphs  we  prepared  for, 
By  Thrasus  his  untimely  death. 

Crot.  Most  certain.         35 

Org.     From  this  time  sprouted-up  that  poisonous 
stalk 
Of  aconite,  whose  ripened  fruit  hath  ravished 
All  health,  all  comfort  of  a  happy  life  ; 
For  Ithocles,  her  brother,  proud  of  youth. 
And  prouder  in  his  power,  nourished  closely  40 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I.  7 

The  memory  of  former  discontents, 

To  glory  in  revenge.     By  cunning  partly, 

Partly  by  threats,  he  vvoos  at  once,  and  forces 

His  virtuous  sister  to  admit  a  marriage 

With  Bassanes,  a  nobleman,  in  honour  45 

And  riches,  I  confess,  beyond  my  fortunes, 

Crot.     All  this  is  no  sound  reason  to  importune 
My  leave  for  thy  departure. 

Oi-o-.  Now  it  follows 

Beauteous  Penthea,  wedded  to  this  torture 
By  an  insulting  brother,  being  secretly  50 

Compelled  to  yield  her  virgin  freedom  up 
To  him,  who  never  can  usurp  her  heart. 
Before  contracted  mine,  is  now  so  joked 
To  a  most  barbarous  thraldom,  misery, 
Affliction,  that  he  savours  not  humanity,  55 

Whose  sorrow  melts  not  into  more  than  pity 
In  hearing  but  her  name. 

Crot.  As  how,  pray  ? 

Qr^^  Bassanes, 

The  man  that  calls  her  wife,  considers  truly 
What  heaven  of  perfections  he  is  lord  of 
By  thinking  fair  Penthea  his  :  this  thought  60 

Begets  a  kind  of  monster-love,  which  love 
Is  nurse  unto  a  fear  so  strong  and  servile 
As  brands  all  dotage  with  a  jealousy  : 
All  eyes  who  gaze  upon  that  shrine  of  beauty 
He  doth  resolve  do  homage  to  the  miracle  ;  65 

Some  one,  he  is  assured,  may  now  or  then. 
If  opportunity  but  sort,  prevail  : 
So  much,  out  of  a  self-unworthiness, 


«  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

His  fears  transport  him  ;  not  tliat  fie  finds  cause 

In  her  obedience,  but  his  own  distrust.  70 

Crot.     You  spin  out  your  discourse. 

Org.  My  griefs  are  violent  : 

For,  knowing  how  the  maid  was  heretofore 
Courted  by  me,  his  jealousies  grow  wild 
That  I  should  steal  again  into  her  favours, 
And  undermine  her  virtues  ;  which  the  gods  75 

Know  I  nor  dare  nor  dream  of.     Hence,  from  hence, 
I  undertake  a  voluntary  exile  ; 
First,  by  my  absence  to  take  off  the  cares 
Of  jealous  Bassanes  ;  but  chiefly,  sir, 
To  free  Penthea  from  a  hell  on  earth  ;  80 

Lastly,  to  lose  the  memory  of  something 
Her  presence  makes  to  live  in  me  afresh. 

Crot.     Enough,  my  Orgilus,  enough.     To  Athens, 
I  give  a  full  consent. — Alas,  good  lady  ! — 
We  shall  hear  from  thee  often  .? 

Org.  Often. 

Crot.  See,         85 

Thy  sister  comes  to  give  a  farewell. 

Enter  Euphranea. 

Euph.  Brother  ! 

Org.     Euphranea,  thus  upon  thy  cheeks  I  print 
A  brother's  kiss  ;  more  careful  of  thine  honour, 
Thy  health,  and  thy  well-doing,  than  my  life. 
Before  we  part,  in  presence  of  our  father,  90 

I  must  prefer  a  suit  t'  ye. 

Euph.  You  may  style  it, 

My  brother,  a  command. 


ACT  I.     SCEXE   I.  9 

0/O-,  That  you  will  promise 

Never  to  pass  to  any  man,  however 
Worthy,  your  faith,  till,  with  our  father's  leave, 
I  give  a  free  consent. 

Crot.  An  easy  motion  !  95 

I'll  promise  for  her,  Orgilus. 

Org.  Your  pardon  ; 

Euphranea's  oath  must  yield  me  satisfaction. 

Euph.     By  Vesta's  sacred  fires  I  swear. 

Crof.  And  I, 

By  great  Apollo's  beams,  join  in  the  vow. 
Not  without  thy  allowance  to  bestow  her  100 

On  any  living. 

Org.  Dear  Euphranea, 

Mistake  me  not  :  far,  far  'tis  from  my  thought, 
As  far  from  any  wish  of  mine,  to  hinder 
Preferment  to  an  honourable  bed 
Or  fitting  fortune  ;  thou  art  young  and  handsome  ; 
And  'twere  injustice, — more,  a  tyranny, —  106 

Not  to  advance  thy  merit :  trust  me,  sister. 
It  shall  be  my  first  care  to  see  thee  matched 
As  may  become  thy  choice  and  our  contents. 
I  have  your  oath. 

Eiip/i.  You  have.     But  mean  you,  brother, 

To  leave  us,  as  you  say  ? 

Crot.  Ay,  ay,  Euphranea  :      iii 

He  has  just  grounds  direct  him.     I  will  prove 
A  father  and  a  brother  to  thee. 

Euph.  Heaven 

Does  look  into  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  : 
Gods,  you  have  mercy  with  ye,  else — 


lO  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Crot.  Doubt  nothing  ;     115 

Thy  brother  will  return  in  safety  to  us. 

Org.  Souls  sunk  in  sorrows  never  are  without  'em  ; 
They  change  fresh  airs,  but  bear  their  griefs  about  'em. 

S^Exeunt. 

Scene  II.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 

Flourish.     Enter  Amyclas,  Armostes,  Prophilus, 
Courtiers,  and  Attendants. 

Amy.    The  Spartan  gods  are  gracious  ;  our  humility 
Shall  bend  before  their  altars,  and  perfume 
Their  temples  with  abundant  sacrifice. 
See,  lords,  Amyclas,  your  old  king,  is  entering 
Into  his  youth  again  !  I  shall  shake  off  5 

This  silver  badge  of  age,  and  change  this  snow 
For  hairs  as  gay  as  are  Apollo's  locks  ; 
Our  heart  leaps,  in  new  vigour. 

Arm.  May  old  time 

Run  back  to  double  your  long  life,  great  sir  ! 

Ainy.  It  will,  it  must,  Armostes:  thy  bold  nephew, 
Death-braving  Ithocles,  brings  to  our  gates  1 1 

Triumphs  and  peace  upon  his  conquering  sword. 
Laconia  is  a  monarchy  at  length  ; 
Hath  in  this  latter  war  trod  under  foot 
Messene's  pride  ;  Messene  bows  her  neck  15 

To  Lacednemon's  royalty.     O,  'twas 
A  glorious  victory,  and  doth  deserve 
More  than  a  chronicle — a  temple,  lords, 
A  temple  to  the  name  of  Ithocles. — 
Where  didst  thou  leave  him,  Prophilus  ? 

Pro.  At  Pephon,  20 


ACT  I.     SCENE   II.  II 

Most  gracious  sovereign  ;  twenty  of  the  noblest 
Of  the  Messenians  there  attend  your  pleasure, 
For  such  conditions  as  you  shall  propose 
In  settling  peace,  and  liberty  of  life. 

Ajny.     When  comes  your  friend  the  general  ? 

PfQ^  He  promised 

To  follow  with  all  speed  convenient.  26 

Enter  Calantha,  Euphranea  ;  Christalla  and 
Philema  with  a  garland ;  and  Crotolon. 

Amy.     Our  daughter  ! — Dear  Calantha,  the  happy 
news. 
The  conquest  of  Messene,  hath  already 
Enriched  thy  knowledge. 

Cal.  With  the  circumstance 

And  manner  of  the  fight,  related  faithfully  30 

By  Prophilus  himself. — But,  pray,  sir,  tell  me 
How  doth  the  youthful  general  demean 
His  actions  in  these  fortunes? 

Pro.  Excellent  princess. 

Your  own  fair  eyes  may  soon  report  a  truth 
Unto  your  judgment,  with  what  moderation,  35 

Calmness  of  nature,  measure,  bounds,  and  limits 
Of  thankfulness  and  joy,  he  doth  digest 
Such  amplitude  of  his  success  as  would 
In  others,  moulded  of  a  spirit  less  clear. 
Advance  'em  to  comparison  with  heaven  :  40 

But  Ithocles — 

Cal.  Your  friend — 

Pro.  He  is  so,  madam, 

In  which  the  period  of  my  fate  consists  : 


12  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

He,  in  this  firmament  of  honour,  stands 

Like  a  star  fixed,  not  moved  with  any  thunder 

Of  popular  applause  or  sudden  Hghtning  45 

Of  self-opinion  ;  he  hath  served  his  country, 

And  thinks  'twas  but  his  duty. 

Crot,  You  describe 

A  miracle  of  man. 

Amy.  Such,  Crotolon, 

On  forfeit  of  a  king's  word,  thou  wilt  find  him. — 

\_FlourisJi. 
Hark,  warning  of  his  coming  !  all  attend  him.  50 

Enter  Ithocles,  ushered  in  by  the  Lords,  and  folloived 
by  Hemophil  and  Groneas. 

Return  into  these  arms,  thy  home,  thy  sanctuary, 
Delight  of  Sparta,  treasure  of  my  bosom, 
Mine  own,  own  Ithocles  ! 

1th.  Your  humblest  subject. 

Arm.     Proud  of  the  blood  I  claim  an  interest  in. 
As  brother  to  thy  mother,  I  embrace  thee,  55 

Right  noble  nephew. 

////.  Sir,  your  love's  too  partial. 

Crot.    Our  country  speaks  by  me,  who  by  thy  valour. 
Wisdom,  and  service,  shares  in  this  great  action  ; 
Returning  thee,  in  part  of  thy  due  merits, 
A  general  welcome. 

Ith.  You  exceed  in  bounty.  60 

Cal.     Christalla,    Philema,    the  c\\^'^\t\..yTakes  the 
chaplet  from  them.'] — I thocles, 
Upon  the  wings  of  fame  the  singular 


ACT  r.     SCENE   //.  13 

And  chosen  fortune  of  an  high  attempt 

Is  borne  so  past  the  view  of  common  sight, 

That  I  myself  with  mine  own  hands  have  wrought,    65 

To  crown  thy  temples,  this  provincial  garland  : 

Accept,  wear,  and  enjoy  it  as  our  gift 

Deserved,  not  purchased. 

Ith.  You're  a  royal  maid. 

Amy.     She  is  in  all  our  daughter. 

Ith.  Let  me  blush, 

Acknowledging  how  poorly  I  have  served,  70 

What    nothings    I    have   done,    compared    with    the 

■  honours 
Heaped  on  the  issue  of  a  willing  mind  ; 
In  that  lay  mine  ability,  that  only  ; 
For  who  is  he  so  sluggish  from  his  birth, 
So  little  worthy  of  a  name  or  country,  75 

That  owes  not  out  of  gratitude  for  life 
A  debt  of  service,  in  what  kind  soever 
Safety  or  counsel  of  the  commonwealth 
Requires,  for  payment  ? 

Cal.  He  speaks  truth. 

Ith.  Whom  heaven 

Is  pleased  to  style  victorious,  there  to  such  80 

Applause  runs  madding,  like  the  drunken  priests 
In  Bacchus'  sacrifices,  without  reason 
Voicing  the  leader-on  a  demi-god  ; 
Whenas,  indeed,  each  common  soldier's  blood 
Drops  down  as  current  coin  in  that  hard  purchase   85 
As  his  whose  much  more  delicate  condition 
Hath  sucked  the  milk  of  ease  ;  judgment  commands, 
But  resolution  executes.     I  use  not, 


14  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Before  this  royal  presence,  these  fit  slights 

As  in  contempt  of  such  as  can  direct  ;  90 

My  speech  hath  other  end  ;  not  to  attribute 

All  praise  to  one  man's  fortune,  which  is  strengthened 

By  many  hands  :  for  instance,  here  is  Prophilus, 

A  gentleman — I  cannot  flatter  truth — 

Of  much  desert  ;  and,  though  in  other  rank,  95 

Both  Hemophil  and  Groneas  were  not  missing 

To  wish  their  country's  peace  ;  for,  in  a  word. 

All  there  did  strive  their  best,  and  'twas  our  duty. 

Amy.     Courtiers  turn  soldiers  ! — We  vouchsafe  our 
hand. 

[Hemophil  and  Groneas  kiss  his  hand. 

Observe  your  great  example. 

Hem.  With  all  diligence. 

Gro.     Obsequiously  and  hourly. 

Amy.  Some  repose    10 1 

After  these  toils  is  needful.  We  must  think  on 
Conditions  for  the  conquered  ;  they  expect  'em. 
On  ! — Come,  my  Ithocles. 

Eiiph.  Sir,  with  your  favour, 

I  need  not  a  supporter. 

Pro.  Fate  instructs  me.  105 

\_Exit    Amyclas  attended^  Ithocles,  Ca- 

LANTHA,  etc.    As  Christalla  aud  Phi- 

LEMA  are  folloiving  Calantha  they  are 

detained  by  Hemophil  and  Groneas. 

Chris.     With  me  ? 

Phil.  Indeed  I  dare  not  stay. 


ACT  r.     SCENE   II.  15 

Hem.  Sweet  lady. 

Soldiers  are  blunt, — your  lip.  \^Kisses  her. 

Chris.  Fie,  this  is  rudeness  : 

You  went  not  hence  such  creatures. 

Gro.  Spirit  of  valour 

Is  of  a  mounting  nature. 

Phil.  It  appears  so. — 

In  earnest,  pray,  how  many  men  apiece  no 

Have  you  two  been  the  death  of  ? 

Gro.  'Faith,  not  many ; 

We  were  composed  of  mercy. 

Hem.  For  our  daring, 

You  heard  the  general's  approbation 
Before  the  king. 

Chris.  You  "  wished  your  country's  peace  "; 

That  showed  your  charity:  where  are  your  spoils,  115 
Such  as  the  soldier  fights  for  ? 

Phil.  They  are  coming. 

Chris.     By  the  next  carrier,  are  they  not  ? 

Gro.  Sweet  Philema, 

When  I  was  in  the  thickest  of  mine  enemies, 
Slashing  off  one  man's  head,  another's  nose, 
Another's  arms  and  legs, — 

/>/;//  And  all  together.       120 

Gro.  Then  would  I  with  a  sigh  remember  thee. 
And  cry  "  Dear  Philema,  'tis  for  thy  sake 
I  do  these  deeds  of  wonder  !  " — dost  not  love  me 
With  all  thy  heart  now  ? 

Phil.  Now  as  heretofore. 


l6  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

I  have  not  put  my  love  to  use  ;  the  principal  125 

Will  hardly  yield  an  interest. 

Gro.  By  Mars, 

I'll  marry  thee  ! 

Fhil.  By  Vulcan,  you're  forsworn, 

Except  my  mind  do  alter  strangely. 

Gro.  One  word. 

Chris.     You  lie  beyond  all  modesty  : — forbear  me. 

Hem.     I'll  make  thee  mistress  of  a  city  ;  'tis       13c 
Mine  own  by  conquest. 

Chris.  By  petition  ;  sue  for't 

In  formd  pauperis. — City  !  kennel. — Gallants  ! 
Off  with  your  feathers,  put  on  aprons,  gallants  ; 
Lear  to  reel,  thrum,  or  trim  a  lady's  dog. 
And  be  good  quiet  souls  of  peace,  hobgoblins  !       135 

Hem.     Christalla  ! 

Chris.  Practise  to  drill  hogs,  in  hope 

To  share  in  the  acorns. — Soldiers  ?  corncutters. 
But  not  so  valiant  ;  they  ofttimes  draw  blood, 
Which  you  durst  never  do.    When  you  have  practised 
More  wit  or  more  civility,  we'll  rank  ye  140 

I'  the  list  of  men  ;  till  then,  brave  things-at-arms. 
Dare  not  to  speak  to  us, — most  potent  Groneas  ! — 

Phil.     And  Hemophil  the  hardy  ! — at  your  services. 
\^Exeunt  Christalla  and  Philema. 

Gro.     They  scorn  us,  as  they  did  before  we  went. 

Hem.     Hang   'em  !    let    us   scorn    them,    and     be 
revenged.  145 

Gro.     Shall  we  ? 


ACT  T.      SCENE   III.  t7 

Hem.  We  will  :  cuid  when  we  slight  them  thus, 

Instead  of  following  them,  they'll  follow  us  ; 
It  is  a  woman's  nature. 

Gro.  'Tis  a  scurvy  one.     \Exeunt. 

Scene  III.      The  Gardens  of  the  Palace.     A  Grove. 

Enter  Tecnicus,  <i!;/rt'ORGiLUS  disguised  like  one  of 
his  Scholars. 

Tec.     Tempt  not  the  stars  ;  young  man,  thou  canst 
not  play 
With  the  severity  of  fate  :  this  change 
Of  habit  and  disguise  in  outward  view 
Hides  not  the  secrets  of  thy  soul  within  thee 
From  their  quick-piercing  eyes,  which  dive  at  all  times 
Down  to  thy  thoughts  :  in  thy  aspect  I  note  6 

A  consequence  of  danger. 

Org.  Give  me  leave, 

Grave  Tecnicus,  without  foredooming  destiny, 
Under  thy  roof  to  ease  my  silent  griefs, 
By  applying  to  my  hidden  wounds  the  balm  lo 

Of  thy  oraculous  lectures.     If  my  fortune 
Run  such  a  crooked  by-way  as  to  wrest 
My  steps  to  ruin,  yet  thy  learned  precepts 
Shall  call  me  back  and  set  my  footings  straight. 
I  will  not  court  the  world. 

Tec.  Ah,  Orgilus,  15 

Neglects  in  young  men  of  delights  and  life 
Run  often  to  extremities  ;  they  care  not 
For  harms  to  others  who  contemn  their  own. 

Org.     But  I,  most  learned  artist,  am  not  so  much 


1 8  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

At  odds  with  nature  that  I  grudge  the  thrift  20 

Of  any  true  deserver  ;  nor  doth  malice 

Of  present  hopes  so  check  them  with  despair 

As  that  I  yield  to  thought  of  more  afifiiction 

Than  what  is  incident  to  frailty  :  wherefore 

Impute  not  this  retired  course  of  living  25 

Some  little  time  to  any  other  cause 

Than  what  I  justly  render, — the  information 

Of  an  unsettled  mind  ;  as  the  effect 

Must  clearly  witness. 

Tec.  Spirit  of  truth  inspire  thee  ! 

On  these  conditions  I  conceal  thy  change,  30 

And  willingly  admit  thee  for  an  auditor. — 
I'll  to  my  study. 

Org.  I  to  contemplations 

In  these  delightful  walks.  YExit  Tecnicus. 

Thus  metamorphosed, 
I  may  without  suspicion  harken  after 
Penthea's  usage  and  Euphranea's  faith.  35 

Love,  thou  art  full  of  mystery  !  the  deities 
Themselves  are  not  secure  in  searching  out 
The  secrets  of  those  flames,  which,  hidden,  waste 
A  breast  made  tributary  to  the  laws 
Of  beauty  :  physic  yet  hath  never  found  40 

A  remedy  to  cure  a  lover's  wound. — 
Ha  !  who  are  those  that  cross  yon  private  walk 
Into  the  shadowing  grove  in  amorous  foldings  ? 

Prophilus  passes  by,  supporting  Euphranea  and 
whispering. 
My  sister  !  O,  my  sister  !  'tis  Euphranea 
With  Prophilus  :  supported  too  !  I  would  45 


ACT  I.     SCENE   TIT.  19 

It  were  an  apparition  !  Prophilus 

Is  Ithocles  his  friend  :  it  strangely  puzzles  me. 

Re-enter  Prophilus  and  Euphranea. 

Again  !  help  me,  my  book  ;  this  scholar's  habit 
Must  stand  my  privilege  :  my  mind  is  busy, 
Mine  eyes  and  ears  are  open. 

[  Walks  aside,  pretending  to  read. 

Pro.  Do  not  waste  50 

The  span  of  this  stol'n  time,  lent  by  the  gods 
For  precious  use,  in  niceness.     Bright  Euphranea, 
Should  I  repeat  old  vows,  or  study  new, 
For  purchase  of  belief  to  my  desires, — 

Org.  [aside'\  Desires  ! 

Fro.  My  service,  my  integrity, — 

Org.  [aside']  That's  better. 

Pro.  I  should  but  repeat  a  lesson 

Oft  conned  without  a  prompter  but  thine  eyes  : 
My  love  is  honourable. 

Org.  [aside]  So  was  mine 

To  my  Penthea,  chastely  honourable. 

Pro.     Nor  wants  there  more  addition  to  my  wish     , 
Of  happiness  than  having  thee  a  wife  ;  61 

Already  sure  of  Ithocles,  a  friend 
Firm  and  unalterable. 

Org.  [aside]  But  a  brother 

More  cruel  than  the  grave. 

Euph.  What  can  you  look  for, 

In  answer  to  your  noble  protestations,  65 

From  an  unskilful  maid,  but  language  suited 
To  a  divided  mind  ? 


20  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Org.  \aside\  Hold  out,  Euphranea  ! 

Euph.     Know,  Prophilus,  I  never  undervalued, 
From  the  first  time  you  mentioned  worthy  love. 
Your  merit,  means,  or  person  :  it  had  been  70 

A  fault  of  judgment  in  me,  and  a  dulness 
In  my  affections,  not  to  weigh  and  thank 
My  better  stars  that  offered  me  the  grace 
Of  so  much  blissfulness.     For,  to  speak  truth, 
The  law  of  my  desires  kept  equal  pace  75 

With  yours  ;  nor  have  I  left  that  resolution  : 
But  only,  in  a  word,  whatever  choice 
Lives  nearest  in  my  heart  must  first  procure 
Consent  both  from  my  father  and  my  brother. 
Ere  he  can  own  me  his. 

Org.  \aside\  She  is  forsworn  else.  80 

Pro.     Leave  me  that  task. 

Euph.  My  brother,  ere  he  parted 

To  Athens,  had  my  oath. 

Org.  \aside\  Yes,  yes,  he  had,  sure. 

Pro.     I  doubt  not,  with  the  means  the  court  sup- 
plies, 
But  to  prevail  at  pleasure. 

Org.  \aside\  Very  likely  ! 

Pro.     Meantime,  best,   dearest,   I    may  build    my 
hopes  85 

On  the  foundation  of  thy  constant  sufferance 
In  any  opposition. 

Euph.  Death  shall  sooner 

Divorce  life  and  the  joys  I  have  in  living 
Than  my  chaste  vows  from  truth. 


ACT  L     SCF.A'E   III.  21 

Pf^  On  thy  fair  hand 

I  seal  the  like. 

Org.  [aside']     There  is  no  faith  in  wonaan.  90 

Passion,  O,  be  contained  !  my  very  heart-strings 
Are  on  the  tenters. 

Eiiph.  We  are  overheard. 

Cupid  protect  us!  'twas  a  stirring,  sir. 
Of  some  one  near. 

Pro.  Your  fears  are  needless,  lady  ; 

None  have  access  into  these  private  pleasures  95 

Except  some  near  in  court,  or  bosom-student 
From  Tecnicus  his  oratory,  granted 
By  special  favour  lately  from  the  king 
Unto  the  grave  philosopher. 

Euph.  Methinks 

I  hear  one  talking  to  himself, — I  see  him.  loc 

Fro.     'Tis  a  poor  scholar,  as  I  told  you,  lady. 

Org.  \aside^^  I  am  discovered— [//<?//"  aloud  to  him- 
self as  if  studying']  Say  it  ;  is  it  possible, 
With  a  smooth  tongue,  a  leering  countenance. 
Flattery,  or  force  of  reason — I  come  t'ye,  sir — 
To  turn  or  to  appease  the  raging  sea  ?  105 

Answer  to  that. — Your  art  !  what  art  ?  to  catch 
And  hold  fast  in  a  net  the  sun's  small  atoms  ? 
No,  no  ;  they'll  out,  they'll  out  ;  ye  may  as  easily 
Outrun  a  cloud  driven  by  a  northern  blast 
As  fiddle-faddle  so!     Peace,  or  speak  sense.  no 

Euph.     Call   you   this   thing   a   scholar  ?  'las,  he's 

lunatic. 
Pro.     Observe  him,  sweet  ;  'tis  but  his  recreation. 


2  2  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Org.     But  will  you  hear  a  little  ?  You're  so  tetchy, 
You  keep  no  rule  in  argument  :  philosophy 
Works  not  upon  impossibilities,  115 

But  natural  conclusions. — Mew! — absurd! 
The  metaphysics  are  but  speculations 
Of  the  celestial  bodies,  or  such  accidents 
As  not  mixed  perfectly,  in  the  air  engendered, 
Appear  to  us  unnatural  ;  that's  all.  120 

Prove  it  ;  yet,  with  a  reverence  to  your  gravity, 
I'll  balk  illiterate  sauciness,  submitting 
My  sole  opinion  to  the  touch  of  writers. 

Pro.     Now  let  us  fall  in  with  him. 

[  They  come  forward. 

Or<^.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

These   apish  boys,  when  they  but   taste    the   gram- 
mates  125 
And  principles  of  theory,  imagine 
They  can  oppose  their  teachers.     Confidence 
Leads  many  into  errors. 

Pro.  By  your  leave,  sir. 

Euph.     Are  you  a  scholar,  friend  ? 

Org.  I  am,  gay  creature, 

With  pardon  of  your  deities,  a  mushroom  130 

On  whom  the  dew  of  heaven  drops  now  and  then  ; 
The  sun  shines  on  me  too,  I  thank  his  beams! 
Sometime  I  feel  their  warmth  ;  and  eat  and  sleep. 

Pro.     Does  Tecnicus  read  to  thee  ? 

Org.  Yes,  forsooth, 

He  is  my  master  surely  ;  yonder  door  135 

Opens  upon  his  study. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  III.  23 

Pro.  Happy  creatures! 

Such  people  toil  not,  sweet,  in  heats  of  state, 
Nor  sink  in  thaws  of  greatness;  their  affections 
Keep  order  with  the  limits  of  their  modesty  ; 
Their  love  is  love  of  virtue.— What's  thy  name  ?    140 

Org.     Aplotes,  sumptuous  master,  a  poor  wretch. 

Euph.     Dost  thou  want  anything  ? 

Org.  Books,  Venus,  books. 

Fro.     Lady,  a  new  conceit  comes  in  my  thought, 
And  most  available  for  both  our  comforts. 

Euph.     My  lord,— 

Pro.  Whiles  I  endeavour  to  deserve  145 

Your  father's  blessing  to  our  loves,  this  scholar 
May  daily  at  some  certain  hours  attend, 
What  notice  I  can  write  of  my  success. 
Here  in  this  grove,  and  give  it  to  your  hands  ; 
The  like  from  you  to  me  :  so  can  we  never,  150 

Barred  of  our  mutual  speech,  want  sure  intelligence. 
And    thus  our    hearts  may    talk    wlien  our   tongues 
cannot. 

Euph.     Occasion  is  most  favourable  ;  use  it. 

Pro.     Aplotes,  wilt  thou  wait  us  twice  a  day, 
At  nine  i'  the  morning  and  at  four  at  night,  155 

Here  in  this  bower,  to  convey  such  letters 
As  each  shall  send  to  other?     Do  it  willingly. 
Safely,  and  secretly,  and  I  will  furnish 
Thy  study,  or  what  else  thou  canst  desire. 

Org.     Jove,  make  me  thankful,  thankful,  I  beseech 
thee,  160 


24  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Propitious  Jove  !     I  will  prove  sure  and  trusty  : 
You  will  not  fail  me  books  ? 

Pro.  Nor  aught  besides 

Thy  heart  can  wish.     This  lady's  name's  Euphranea, 
Mine  Prophilus. 

Org.  I  have  a  pretty  memory  ; 

It  must  prove  my  best  friend.     I  will  not  miss        165 
One  minute  of  the  hours  appointed. 

Pro.  Write 

The  books  thou  wouldst  have  bought  thee  in  a  note, 
Or  take  thyself  some  money. 

Org.  No,  no  money  ; 

Money  to  scholars  is  a  spirit  invisible. 
We  dare  not  finger  it  :  or  books,  or  nothing.  170 

Pro.     Books  of  what  sort  thou  wilt  :  do  not  forget 
Our  names. 

Org.  I  warrant  ye,  I  warrant  ye. 

Pro.  Smile,  Hymen,  on  the  growth  of  our  desires  ; 
We'll  feed  thy  torches  with  eternal  fires  ! 

\Exeunt  Prophilus  and  Euphranea. 

Org.     Put  out  thy  torches,  Hymen,  or  their  light 
Shall  meet  a  darkness  of  eternal  night  !  176 

Inspire  me,  Mercury,  with  swift  deceits. 
Ingenious  Fate  has  leapt  into  mine  arms, 
Beyond  the  compass  of  my  brain.     Mortality 
Creeps  on  the  dung  of  earth,  and  cannot  reach       180 
The  riddles  which  are  purposed  by  the  gods. 
Great  arts  best  write  themselves  in  their  own  stories  ; 
They  die  too  basely  who  outlive  their  glories.     \_Exit. 


ACT  THE  SECOND. 

Scene  I.     A  Room  in  Bassanes'  House. 

Enter  Bassanes  and  Phulas. 

Bass.     I'll  have  that  window  next  the  street  dammed 
up; 
It  gives  too  full  a  prospect  to  temptation, 
And  courts  a  gazer's  glances  ;  there's  a  lust 
Committed  by  the  eye,  that  sweats  and  travails, 
Plots,  wakes,  contrives,  till  the  deformed  bear-whelp, 
Adultery,  be  licked  into  the  act,  6 

The  very  act  :  that  light  shall  be  dammed  up  ; 
D'ye  hear,  sir  ? 

Phu.  I  do  hear,  my  lord  ;  a  mason 

Shall  be  provided  suddenly. 

Bass.  Some  rogue, 

Some  rogue  of  your  confederacy, — factor  lo 

For  slaves  and  strumpets  ! — to  convey  close  packets 
From  this  spruce  springal  and  the  t'other  youngster  ; 
That  gaudy  earwig,  or  my  lord  your  patron. 
Whose  pensioner  you  are. — I'll  tear  thy  throat  out, 
Son  of  a  cat,  ill-looking  hound's  head,  rip-up  15 

Thy  ulcerous  maw,  if  I  but  scent  a  paper, 
A  scroll,  but  half  as  big  as  what  can  cover 
A  wart  upon  thy  nose,  a  spot,  a  pimple. 
Directed  to  my  lady  ;  it  may  prove 
A  mystical  preparative  to  lewdness.  20 


26  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Phil.     Care  shall  be  had  ;  I  will  turn  every  thread 
About  me  to  an  eye. — \_Aside\  Here's  a  sweet  life  ! 

Bass.     The  city  housewives,  cunning  in  the  traffic 
Of  chamber  merchandise,  set  all  at  price 
By   wholesale  ;     yet    they    wipe    their    mouths   and 
simper,  25 

Cull,  kiss,  and  cry  "  sweetheart,"  and  stroke  the  head 
Which  they  have  branched  ;  and  all  is  well  again  ! 
Dull  clods  of  dirt,  who  dare  not  feel  the  rubs 
Stuck  on  their  foreheads. 

Phu.  'Tis  a  villainous  world  ; 

One  cannot  hold  his  own  in't. 

Bass.  Dames  at  court,       30 

Who  flaunt  in  riots,  run  another  bias  ; 
Their  pleasure  heaves  the  patient  ass  that  suffers 
Up  on  the  stilts  of  office,  titles,  incomes  ; 
Promotion  justifies  the  shame,  and  sues  for't. 
Poor  honour,  thou  art  stabbed,  and  bleed'st  to  death 
By  such  unlawful  hire  !     The  country  mistress        36 
Is  yet  more  wary,  and  in  blushes  hides 
Whatever  trespass  draws  her  troth  to  guilt. 
But  all  are  false  :  on  this  truth  I  am  bold, 
No  woman  but  can  fall,  and  doth,  or  would. —  40 

Now  for  the  newest  news  about  the  city  ; 
What  blab  the  voices,  sirrah  ? 

Phu.  O,  my  lord, 

The  rarest,  quaintest,  strangest,  tickling  news 
That  ever — 

Bass.  Hey-dey  !  up  and  ride  me,  rascal  ! 

What  is't  ? 

Phu.        Forsooth,  they  say  the  king  has  mewed   45 


ACT  II.     SCENE   I.  27 

All  his  gray  beard,  instead  of  which  is  budded 
Another  of  a  pure  carnation  colour, 
Speckled  with  green  and  russet. 

Bass.  Ignorant  block  ! 

P/iu.     Yes,  truly  ;  and  'tis  talked  about  the  streets, 
That  since  Lord  Ithocles  came  home,  the  lions         50 
Never  left  roaring,  at  which  noise  the  bears 
Have  danced  their  very  hearts  out. 

Bass.  Dance  out  thine  too. 

F/iie.     Besides,  Lord  Orgilus  is  fled  to  Athens 
Upon  a  fiery  dragon,  and  'tis  thought 
He  never  can  return. 
Bass.  Grant  it,  Apollo !  55 

Phu.     Moreover,  please  your  lordship,  'tis  reported 
For  certain,  that  whoever  is  found  jealous 
Without  apparent  proof  that's  wife  is  wanton 
Shall  be  divorced  :  but  this  is  but  she-news  ; 
I  had  it  from  a  midwife.     I  have  more  yet.  60 

Bass.  Antic,  no  more  !  idiots  and  stupid  fools 
Grate  my  calamities.     Why  to  be  fair 
Should  yield  presumption  of  a  faulty  soul — 
Look  to  the  doors. 

Phil.  The  horn  of  plenty  crest  him  ! 

\^Astde  and  exit. 

Bass.     Swarms  of  confusion  huddle  in  my  thoughts 
In  rare  distemper. — Beauty  !  O,  it  is  66 

An  unmatched  blessing  or  a  horrid  curse. 
She  comes,  she  comes  !  so  shoots  the  morning  forth, 
Spangled  with  pearls  of  transparent  dew. — 
The  way  to  poverty  is  to  be  rich,  70 


28  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

As  I  in  her  am  wealthy  ;  but  for  her, 
In  all  contents  a  bankrupt. 

Enter  Penthea  and  Grausis. 

Loved  Penthea  ! 
How  fares  my  heart's  best  joy  ? 

Grau.  la  sooth,  not  well, 

She  is  over-sad. 

Bass.  Leave  chattering,  magpie. — 

Thy  brother  is  returned,  sweet,  safe  and  honoured 
With  a  triumphant  victory  ;  thou  shalt  visit  him  :     76 
We  will  to  court,  where,  if  it  be  thy  pleasure, 
Thou  shalt  appear  in  such  a  ravishing  lustre 
Of  jewels  above  value,  that  the  dames 
Who  brave  it  there,  in  rage  to  be  outshined,  80 

Shall  hide  them  in  their  closets,  and  unseen 
Fret  in  their  tears  ;  whiles  every  wondering  eye 
Shall  crave  none  other  brightness  but  thy  presence. 
Choose  thine  own  recreations  ;  be  a  queen 
Of  what  delights  thou  fanciest  best, what  company,  85 
What  place,  what  times  ;  do  anything,  do  all  things 
Youth  can  command,  so  thou  wilt  chase  these  clouds 
From  the  pure  firmament  of  thy  fair  looks. 

Grau.      Now  'tis  well  said,  my  lord. — What,  lady  ! 
laugh, 
Be  merry  ;  time  is  precious. 

Bass.  \aside\  Furies  whip  thee  !      90 

Pen.    Alas,  my  lord,  this  language  to  your  hand-maid 
Sounds  as  would  music  to  the  deaf  ;  I  need 
No  braveries  nor  cost  of  art  to  draw 
The  whiteness  of  my  name  into  offense  : 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I.  29 

Let  such,  if  any  such  tliere  are,  who  covet  95 

A  curiosity  >f  admiration, 

By  laying-out  their  plenty  to  full  view, 

Appear  in  gaudy  outsides  ;  my  attires 

Shall  suit  the  inward  fashion  of  my  mind  ; 

From  which,  if  your  opinion,  nobly  placed,  100 

Change  not  the  livery  your  words  bestow, 

My  fortunes  with  my  hopes  are  at  the  highest. 

Bass.     This  house,  methinks,  stands  somewhat  too 
much  inward, 
It  is  too  melancholy  ;  we'll  remove 
Nearer  the  court  :  or  what  thinks  my  Penthea        105 
Of  the  delightful  island  we  command  ? 
Rule  me  as  thou  canst  wish. 

Pen.  I  am  no  mistress  : 

Whither  you  please,  I  must  attend  ;  all  ways 
Are  alike  pleasant  to  me. 

Grail.  Island  !  prison  ; 

A  prison  is  as  gaysome  :  we'll  no  islands  ;  no 

INIarry,  out  upon  'em  !  whom  shall  we  see  there  ? 
Sea-gulls,  and  porpoises,  and  water-rats, 
And  crabs,  and  mews,  and  dog-fish  ;  goodly  gear 
For  a  young  lady's  dealing, — or  an  old  one's  ! 
On  no  terms  islands  ;  I'll  be  stewed  first. 

Bass,  [aside  to  Gv.wjzis]  Grausis,     115 

You  are  a  juggling  bawd. — This  sadness,  sweetest. 
Becomes  not  youthful  blood. — \_Aside  to  Grausis]  I'll 

have  you  pounded. — 
For  my  sake  put  on  a  more  cheerful  mirth  ; 
Thou'lt  mar  thy  cheeks,  and  make  me  old  in  griefs. — 
[Aside  to  Grausis]   Damnable  bitch-fox  ! 


30  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Grau.  I  am  thick  of  hearing,       120 

Still,  when  the  wind  blows  southerly. — WhaL  think  ye, 
If  your  fresh  lady  breed  young  bones,  my  lord  ! 
Would  not  a  chopping  boy  d'ye  good  at  heart  ? 
But,  as  you  said — 

Bass,   [aside  to  Grausis]   I'll  spit  thee  on  a  stake, 
Or  chop  thee  into  collops  ! 

Grau.  Pray,  speak  louder.     125 

Sure,  sure  the  wind  blows  south  still. 
Fen.  Thou  prat'st  madly. 

Bass.     'Tis  very  hot ;  I  sweat  extremely. 

Re-enter  Phulas. 

Now? 

Phu.     A  herd  of  lords,  sir. 

Bass.  Ha  ! 

Fhu.  A  flock  of  ladies. 

Bass.     Where  ? 

Phu.  Shoals  of  horses. 

Bass.  Peasant,  how  ? 

Phu.  Caroches 

In  drifts ;  the  one  enter,  the  other  stand  without,  sir  : 
And  now  I  vanish.  [Exit. 

Enter  Prophilus,  Hemophil,  Groneas,  Christalla, 
and  Philema. 

Pro.  Noble  Bassanes  !  131 

Bass.     Most  welcome,   Prophilus  ;    ladies,   gentle- 
men, 
To  all  my  heart  is  open  ;  you  all  honour  me, — 


ACT  II.     SCENE   I.  31 

\Aside\  A  tympany  swells  in  my  head  already. — 
Honour  me  bountifully. — \Aside\  How  they  flutter, 
Wagtails  and  jays  together ! 

Pro.  From  your  brother  136 

By  virtue  of  your  love  to  him,  I  require 
Your  instant  presence,  fairest. 

Pen.  He  is  well,  sir  ? 

Pro.     The   gods    preserve    him    ever !     Yet,  dear 
beauty, 
I  find  some  alteration  in  him  lately,  140 

Since  his  return  to  Sparta. — My  good  lord, 
I  pray,  use  no  delay. 

Bass.  We  had  not  needed 

An  invitation,  if  his  sister's  health 
Had  not  fall'n  into  question. — Haste,  Penthea, 
Slack  not  a  minute. — Lead  the  way,  good  Prophilus  ; 
I'll  follow,  step  by  step. 

Pro.  Your  arm,  fair  madam.   146 

\^Exeunt  all  but  Bassanes  and  Grausis. 

Bass.     One   word    with   your   old    bawdship  :    th' 
hadst  been  better 
Railed    at    the    sins    thou    worshipp'st    than    have 

thwarted 
My  will  :  I'll  use  thee  cursedly. 

Grau.  You  dote, 

You  are  beside  yourself.     A  politician  150 

In  jealousy  ?  no,  you're  too  gross,  too  vulgar. 
Pish,  teach  not  me  my  trade  ;  I  know  my  cue  : 
My  crossing  you  sinks  me  into  her  trust, 
By  which  I  shall  know  all  ;  my  trade's  a  sure  one. 


32  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Bass.     Forgive  me,  Grausis,  'twas  consideration 
I  relished  not ;  but  have  a  care  now. 

Grau.  Fear  not,       156 

I  am  no  new-come-to't. 

Bass.  Thy  life's  upon  it. 

And  so  is  mine.     My  agonies  are  infinite.       \^Exeunt. 

Scene  II.      The  Palace.     Ithocles'  Apartment. 

Enter  Ithocles. 

////.     Ambition!  'tis  of  vipers'  breed  :  it  gnaws 
A  passage  through  the  womb  that  gave  it  motion. 
Ambition,  like  a  seeled  dove,  mounts  upward, 
Higher  and  higher  still,  to  perch  on  clouds, 
But  tumbles  headlong  down  with  heavier  ruins.  5 

So  squibs  and  crackers  fly  into  the  air, 
Then,  only  breaking  with  a  noise,  they  vanish 
In  stench  and  smoke.     Morality  applied 
To  timely  practice,  keeps  the  soul  in  tune, 
At  whose  sweet  music  all  our  actions  dance  :  10 

But  this  is  formed  of  books  and  school-tradition  ; 
It  physics  not  the  sickness  of  a  mind 
Broken  with  griefs  :  strong  fevers  are  not  eased 
With  counsel,  but  with  best  receipts  and  means  ; 
Means,  speedy  means  and  certain  ;  that's  the  cure.  15 

Enter  Armostes  and  Crotolon. 

Arm.     You  stick,  Lord  Crotolon,  upon  a  point 
Too  nice  and  too  unnecessary  ;  Prophilus 
Is  every  way  desertful.     I  am  confident 
Your  wisdom  is  too  ripe  to  need  instruction 
From  your  son's  tutelage. 


ACT  II.     SCEJVE   II.  33 

Crof.  Yet  not  so  ripe,  20 

My  Lord  Armostes,  that  it  dare  to  dote 
Upon  tlie  painted  meat  of  smooth  persuasion, 
Which  tempts  me  to  a  breach  of  faith. 

Ith.  Not  yet 

Resolved,  my  lord  ?     Why,  if  your  son's  consent 
Be  so  available,  we'll  write  to  Athens  25 

For  his  repair  to  Sparta  :  the  king's  hand 
Will  join  with  our  desires  ;  he  has  been  moved  to't. 

Arm.     Yes,  and  the  king  himself  importuned  Cro- 
tolon 
For  a  dispatch. 

Crot.  Kings  may  command  ;  their  wills 

Are  laws  not  to  be  questioned. 

////.  By  this  marriage     30 

You  knit  an  union  so  devout,  so  hearty, 
Between  your  loves  to  me  and  mine  to  yours, 
As  if  mine  own  blood  had  an  interest  in  it ; 
For  Prophilus  is  mine,  and  I  am  his. 

Crot.     My  lord,  my  lord! — 

Ith.  What,  good  sir  ?  speak  your  thought. 

Ci'ot.     Had  this  sincerity  been  real  once,  36 

My  Orgilus  had  not  been  now  unwived, 
Nor  your  lost  sister  buried  in  a  bride-bed  : 
Your  uncle  here,  Amostes,  knows  this  truth  ; 
For  had  your  father  Thrasus  lived, — but  peace        40 
Dwell  in  his  grave!  I've  done. 

Ann.  You're  bold  and  bitter. 

Ith.    [aside'\     He    presses    home     the     injury ;     it 
smarts. — 


34  TflE    BROKEN  HEART. 

No  reprehensions,  uncle  ;   I  deserve  'em, 

Yet,  gentle  sir,  consider  what  the  heat 

Of  an  unsteady  youth,  a  giddy  brain,  45 

Green  indiscretion,  flattery  of  greatness, 

Rawness  of  judgment,  wilfulness  in  folly, 

Thoughts  vagrant  as  the  wind  and  as  uncertain. 

Might  lead  a  boy  in  years  to  : — 'twas  a  fault, 

A  capital  fault ;  for  then  I  could  not  dive  50 

Into  the  secrets  of  commanding  love  ; 

Since  when  experience,  by  the  extremes  in  others, 

Hath  forced  me  collect — and,  trust  me,  Crotolon, 

I  will  redeem  those  wrongs  with  any  service 

Your  satisfaction  can  require  for  current,  55 

Ar77i.     The  acknowledgment  is  satisfaction  : 
What  would  you  more  ? 

Crot.  I'm  conquered  :  if  Euphranea 

Herself  admit  the  motion,  let  it  be  so  ; 
I  doubt  not  my  son's  liking. 

////.  Use  my  fortunes, 

Life,  power,  sword,  and  heart, — all  are  your  own.    60 

Arm.     The  princess,  with  your  sister. 

Enter  Calantha,  Penthea,  Euphranea,  Chris- 
TALLA,  Philema,  Grausis,  Bassanes,  ami 
Prophilus. 

Cal.  I  present  ye 

A  stranger  here  in  court,  my  lord  ;  for  did  not 
Desire  of  seeing  you  draw  her  abroad. 
We  had  not  been  made  happy  in  her  company. 

////.     You  are  a  gracious  princess. — Sister,  wedlock 
Holds  too  severe  a  passion  in  your  nature,  66 


ACT  11.      SCENE   IE  35 

Which  can  engross  all  duty  to  your  husband, 
Without  attendance  on  so  dear  a  mistress. — 
[To   BassanesJ    'Tis    not    my   brother's  pleasure,    I 

presume, 
T'immure  her  in  a  chamber. 

Bass.  'Tis  her  will  ;  70 

She  governs  her  own  hours.     Noble  Ithocles, 
We  thank  the  gods  for  your  success  and  welfare  : 
Our  lady  has  of  late  been  indisposed, 
Else  we  had  waited  on  you  with  the  first. 

Ith.     How  does  Penthea  now  ? 

Fen.  You  best  know,  brother,  75 

From  whom  my  health  and  comforts  are  derived. 

Bass,  [aside']  I  like  the  answer  well  ;  'tis  sad   and 
modest. 
There    may   be   tricks   yet,    tricks. — Have     an    eye, 
Grausis  ! 

Cal.     Now,  Crotolon,   the   suit   we  joined  in  must 
not 
Fall  by  too  long  demur. 

Crot.  'Tis  granted,  princess,       80 

For  my  part. 

Arm.  With  condition,  that  his  son 

Favour  the  contract. 

Cal.  Such  delay  is  easy. — 

The  joys  of  marriage  make  thee,  Prophilus, 
A  proud  deserver  of  Euphranea's  love, 
And  her  of  thy  desert ! 

Pro.  Most  sweetly  gracious  !     85 

Bass.     The  joys  of  marriage  are  the  heaven  on  earth, 


36  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Life's  paradise,  great  princess,  the  soul's  quiet, 
Sinews  of  concord,  eartlily  immortality, 
Eternity  of  pleasures  ; — no  restoratives 
Like  to  a  constant  woman  ! — \Aside\    But  where  is 
she  ?  90 

'Twould  puzzle  all  the  gods  but  to  create 
Such  a  new  monster. — I  can  speak  by  proof, 
For  I  rest  in  Elysium  ;  'tis  my  happiness. 

Crot.     Euphranea,    how    are   you    resolved,    speak 
freely, 
In  your  affections  to  this  gentleman  ?  95 

Euph.     Nor  more  nor  less  than  as  his  love  assures 
me  ; 
Which— if  your  liking  with  my  brother's  warrants — 
I  cannot  but  approve  in  all  points  worthy. 

Crot.     So,    so!— [Tt?    Prophilus]    I    know    your 

answer. 
////.  'T  had  been  pity 

To  sunder  hearts  so  equally  consented.  100 

Enter  Hemophil. 

Hem.     The  king,  Lord    Ithocles,  commands  your 
presence  ; — 
And,  fairest  princess,  yours. 

Cal.  We  will  attend  him. 

Enter  Groneas. 

Gro.     Where  are  the  lords  ?  all  must  unto  the  king 
Without  delay  :  the  Prince  of  Argos— 

Cal.  Well,  sir  ? 

Gro.     Is  coming  to  the  court,  sweet  lady. 


ACT  //.     SCENE   IT.  37 

Cal.  How    105 

The  Prince  of  Argos  ? 

Gro.  'Tvvas  my  fortune,  madam, 

T'  enjoy  the  honour  of  these  happy  tidings. 

Ith.     Penthea  ! — 

Pen.  Brother  ? 

////.  Let  me  an  hour  hence 

Meet  you  alone  within  the  palace-grove  ; 
I  have  some  secret  with  you. — Prithee,  friend,        no 
Conduct  her  thither,  and  have  special  care 
The  walks  be  cleared  of  any  to  disturb  us. 

Pro.  I  shall. 

Bass.   \aside\     How's  that  ? 

Ith.  Alone,  pray  be  alone. — 

I  am  your  creature,  princess. — On,  my  lords  ! 

\^Exeunt  all  but  Bassanes. 

Bass.     Alone  !     alone  !     what    means    that    word 
"alone"?  115 

Why  might  not  I  be  there  ? — hum  ! — he's  her  brother. 
Brothers  and  sisters  are  but  flesh  and  blood. 
And  this  same  whoreson  court-ease  is  temptation 
To  a  rebellion  in  the  veins  ; — besides, 
His  fine  friend  Prophilus  must  be  her  guardian  :    120 
Why  may  not  he  dispatch  a  business  nimbly 
Before  the  other  come  ? — or — pandering,  pandering 
For  one  another, — be't  to  sister,  mother. 
Wife,  cousin,  anything, — 'mongst  youths  of  mettle 
Is  in  request  ;  it  is  so — stubborn  fate  !  125 

But  if  I  be  a  cuckold,  and  can  know  it, 
I  will  be  fell,  and  fell. 


38  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Re-enter  Groneas. 
Gj'o.  My  lord,  you're  called  for, 

Bass.     Most  heartily  I  thank  ye.     Where's  my  wife, 

pray  ? 
Gro.     Retired  amongst  the  ladies. 
Bass.  Still  I  thank  ye. 

There's  an  old  waiter  with  her  ;  saw  you  her  too  ? 
Gro.     She  sits  i'  the  presence-lobby  fast  asleep,  sir. 
Bass.     Asleep  !  asleep,  sir  ! 

Gro.  Is  your  lordship  troubled  ? 

You  will  not  to  the  king  ? 

Bass.  Your  humblest  vassal. 

Gro.     Your  servant,  my  good  lord. 
Bass.  I  wait  your  footsteps. 

\^Exeunt. 

Scene  III.      The  Gardens  of  the  Palace.     A  Grove. 
Enter  Prophilus  and  Penthea. 

Pro.     In  this  walk,  lady,  will  your  brother  find  you  ; 
And,  with  your  favour,  give  me  leave  a  little 
To  work  a  preparation.     In  his  fashion 
I  have  observed  of  late  some  kind  of  slackness 
To  such  alacrity  as  nature  once  5 

And  custom  took  delight  in  ;  sadness  grows 
Upon  his  recreations,  which  he  hoards 
In  such  a  willing  silence,  that  to  question 
The  grounds  will  argue  little  skill  in  friendship, 
And  less  good  manners. 

Pen.  Sir,  I'm  not  inquisitive     10 

Of  secrecies  without  an  invitation. 


ACT  If.      SCENE   III.  39 

Fro.     With  pardon,  lady,  not  a  syllable 
Of  mine  implies  so  rude  a  sense  ;  the  drift — 

Enter  Orgilus,  disguised  as  before. 

[To  Org.]   Do  thy  best 

To  make  this  lady  merry  for  an  hour. 

Org.     Your  will  shall  be  a  law,  sir. 

[Exit  Prophilus. 

Pe?i.  Prithee,  leave  me  ;     15 

I  have  some  private  thoughts  I  would  account  with  ; 
Use  thou  thine  own. 

Org.  Speak  on,  fair  nymph  ;  our  souls 

Can  dance  as  well  to  music  of  the  spheres 
As  any's  who  have  feasted  with  the  gods. 

Fen.     Your  school-terms  are  too  troublesome. 

Org.  What  Heaven 

Refines  mortality  from  dross  of  earth  21 

But  such  as  uncompounded  beauty  hallows 
With  glorified  perfection  ? 

Fen.  Set  thy  wits 

In  a  less  wild  proportion. 

Org.  Time  can  never 

On  the  white  table  of  unguilty  faith  25 

Write  counterfeit  dishonour  ;  turn  those  eyes, 
The  arrows  of  pure  love,  upon  that  fire, 
Which  once  rose  to  a  flame,  perfumed  with  vows 
As  sweetly  scented  as  the  incense  smoking 
On  Vesta's  altars,    ...  3° 

.    .    .    the  holiest  odours,  virgin's  tears, 
.    .    .    sprinkled,  like  dews,  to  feed  them 
And  to  increase  their  fervour. 


40  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Pen.  Be  not  frantic, 

0>'g.  All  pleasures  are  but  mere  imagination, 

Feeding  the  hungry  appetite  with  steam  35 

And  sight  of  banquet,  whilst  the  body  pines, 

Not  relishing  the  real  taste  of  food  : 

Such  is  the  leanness  of  a  heart  divided 

From  intercourse  of  troth-contracted  loves  ; 

No  horror  should  deface  that  precious  figure  40 

Sealed  with  the  lively  stamp  of  equal  souls. 

Fen.  Away  !  some  Fury  hath  bewitched  thy  tongue: 

The  breath  of  ignorance,  that  flies  from  thence, 

Ripens  a  knowledge  in  me  of  afflictions 

Above  all  sufferance. — Thing  of  talk,  begone  !         45 

Begone,  without  reply  ! 

Org.  Be  just,  Penthea, 

In  thy  commands  ;  when  thou  send'st  forth  a  doom 
Of  banishment,  know  first  on  whom  it  lights. 
Thus  I  take  off  the  shroud,  in  which  my  cares 
Are  folded  up  from  view  of  common  eyes.  50 

[  Throws  off  his  Scholar's  dress. 
What  is  thy  sentence  next  ? 

Pen.  Rash  man  !  thou  lay'st 

A  blemish  on  mine  honour,  with  the  hazard 
Of  thy  too-desperate  life  :  yet  I  profess. 
By  all  the  laws  of  ceremonious  wedlock, 
I  have  not  given  admittance  to  one  thought  55 

Of  female  change  since  cruelty  enforced 
Divorce  betwixt  my  body  and  my  heart. 
Why  would  you  fall  from  goodness  thus  ? 

Org.  O,  rather 

Examine  me,  how  I  could  live  to  say 


ACT  II.      SCENE   III.  41 

I  have  been  much,  much  wronged.     'Tis  for  thy  sake 
I  put  on  this  imposture  :  clear  Penthea,  61 

If  thy  soft  bosom  be  not  turned  to  marble, 
Thou'lt  pity  our  calamities  ;  my  interest 
Confirms  me  thou  art  mine  still. 

Pen.  Lend  your  hand  ; 

With  both  of  mine  I  clasp  it  thus,  thus  kiss  it,  65 

Thus  kneel  before  ye.  [Penthea  kneels. 

Org.  You  instruct  my  duty. 

[Orgilus  kneels. 

Pen.     We  may  stand    up.    \^TIiey  rise?^    Have  you 
aught  else  to  urge 
Of  new  demand  ?  as  for  the  old,  forget  it ; 
'Tis  buried  in  an  everlasting  silence, 
And  shall  be,  shall  be  ever  :  what  more  would  ye?  70 

Org.     I  would  possess  my  wife  ;  the  equity 
Of  very  reason  bids  me. 

Pen.  Is  that  all  ? 

Org.     Why,  'tis  the  all  of  me,  myself. 

Pen.  Remove 

Your  steps  some  distance  from  me  : — at  this  space 
A  few  words  I  dare  change  ;  but  first  put  on  75 

Your  borrowed  shape. 

Org.  You  are  obeyed  ;  'tis  done. 

\He  resumes  his  disguise. 

Pen.  How,  Orgilus,  by  promise  I  was  thine 
The  heavens  do  witness  ;  they  can  witness  too 
A  rape  done  on  my  truth  :  how  I  do  love  thee 
Yet,  Orgilus,  and  yet,  must  best  appear  80 

In  tendering  thy  freedom  ;  for  I  find 


42  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

The  constant  preservation  of  thy  merit, 

By  thy  not  daring  to  attempt  my  fame 

With  injury  of  any  loose  conceit, 

Which  might  give  deeper  wound  to  discontents.       85 

Continue  this  fair  race  :  then,  though  I  cannot 

Add  to  thy  comfort,  yet  I  shall  more  often 

Remember  from  what  fortune  I  am  fall'n, 

And  pity  mine  own  ruin. — Live,  live  happy, — 

Happy  in  thy  next  choice,  that  thou  mayst  people    90 

This  barren  age  with  virtues  in  thy  issue  ! 

And  O,  when  thou  art  married,  think  on  me 

With  mercy,  not  contempt  !  I  hope  thy  wife, 

Hearing  my  story,  will  not  scorn  my  fall. — 

Now  let  us  part. 

Org.  Part  !  yet  advise  thee  better  :     95 

Penthea  is  the  wife  to  Orgilus, 
And  ever  shall  be. 

Pen.  Never  shall  nor  will. 

Org.     How  ! 

Pen.  Hear  me  ;  in  a  word  I'll  tell  thee  why. 

The  virgin-dowry  which  my  birth  bestowed 
Is  ravished  by  another  ;  my  true  love  100 

Abhors  to  think  that  Orgilus  deserved 
No  better  favours  than  a  second  bed. 

Org.     I  must  not  take  this  reason. 

Pen.  To  confirm  it ; 

Should  I  outlive  my  bondage,  let  me  meet 
Another  worse  than  this  and  less  desired,  105 

If,  of  all  men  alive,  thou  shouldst  but  touch 
My  lip  or  hand  again  ! 

Org.  Penthea,  now 


ACT  IT.      SCENE   I  IT.  43 

I  tell  ye,  you  grow  wanton  in  my  sufferance  : 
Come,  sweet,  thou'rt  mine. 

Pen.  Uncivil  sir,  forbear  ! 

Or  I  can  turn  affection  into  vengeance  ;  no 

Your  reputation,  if  you  value  any. 
Lies  bleeding  at  my  feet.     Unworthy  man. 
If  ever  henceforth  thou  appear  in  language. 
Message,  or  letter,  to  betray  my  frailty, 
I'll  call  thy  former  protestations  lust,  115 

And  curse  my  stars  for  forfeit  of  my  judgment. 
Go  thou,  fit  only  for  disguise,  and  walks, 
To  hide  thy  shame  :  this  once  I  spare  thy  life. 
I  laugh  at  my  own  confidence  ;  my  sorrows 
By  thee  are  made  inferior  to  my  fortunes.  120 

If  ever  thou  didst  harbour  worthy  love, 
Dare  not  to  answer.     My  good  genius  guide  me, 
That  I  may  never  see  thee  more  ! — Go  from  me  ! 

Org.     I'll  tear  my  veil  of  politic  French  off. 
And  stand  up  like  a  man  resolved  to  do  :  125 

Action,  not  words,  shall  show  me. — O  Penthea! 

\^Exit. 

Pen.     He  sighed  my  name,  sure,  as  he  parted  from 
me  : 
I  fear  I  was  too  rough.     Alas,  poor  gentleman  ! 
He  looked  not  like  the  ruins  of  his  youth. 
But  like  the  ruins  of  those  ruins.     Honour,  130 

How  much  we  fight  with  weakness  to  preserve  thee  ! 

[  Walks  aside. 

Enter  Bassanes  ^//(/Grausis. 

Bciss.     Fie   on  thee  !  damn   thee,  rotten   maggot, 
damn  thee  ! 


44  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Sleep?  sleep  at  court  ?  and  now  ?  Aches, convulsions, 

Imposthumes,  rheums,  gouts,  palsies,  clog  thy  bones 

A  dozen  years  more  yet  ! 

Grau.  Now  you're  in  humours.     135 

Bass.     She's  by  herself,  there's  hope  of  that ;  she's 
sad  too  ; 

She's  in  strong  contemplation  ;  yes,  and  fixed  : 

The  signs  are  wholesome. 

Grau.  Very  wholesome,  truly. 

Bass.     Hold  your  chops,  nightmare  ! — Lad3%come  ; 
your  brother 
Is  carried  to  his  closet ;  you  must  thither.  140 

Pen.     Not  well,  my  lord  ? 

Bass.  A  sudden  fit ;  'twill  off  ! 

Some  surfeit  or  disorder. — How  dost,  dearest  ? 

Fen.     Your  news  is  none  o'  the  best. 

Re-enter  Prophilus. 

Pro.  The  chief  of  men, 

The  excellentest  Ithocles,  desires 
Your  presence,  madame. 

Bass.  We  are  hasting  to  him. 

Pen.     In  vain  we  labour  in  this  course  of  life     146 
To  piece  our  journey  out  at  length,  or  crave 
Respite  of  breath  :  our  home  is  in  the  grave. 

Bass.     Perfect  philosophy  ! 

Pen.  Then  let  us  care 

To  live  so,  that  our  reckonings  may  fall  even  150 

When  we're  to  make  account. 

Pro.  He  cannot  fear 


ACT  11.     SCENE  III.  -  45 

Who  builds  on  noble  grounds  :  sickness  or  pain 

Is  the  deserver's  exercise  ;  and  such 

Your  virtuous  brother  to  the  world  is  known. 

Speak  comfort  to  him,  lady  ;  be  all  gentle  :  155 

Stars  fall  but  in  the  grossness  of  our  sight  ; 

A  good  man  dying,  the  earth  doth  lose  a  light. 

\_Exeunt. 


ACT  THE  THIRD. 

Scene  I.      The.  Study  of  Tecnicus. 

Enter  Tecnicus,  ami  Orgilus  /;/  his  usual  dress. 

Tec.     Be  well  advised  ;  let  not  a  resolution 
Of  giddy  rashness  choke  the  breath  of  reason. 
Org.     It  shall  not,  most  sage  master. 

Tec.  I  am  jealous  ; 

For  if  the  borrowed  shape  so  late  put  on 
Inferred  a  consequence,  we  must  conclude  5 

Some  violent  design  of  sudden  nature 
Hath  shook  that  shadow  off,  to  fly  upon 
A  new-hatched  execution.     Orgilus, 
Take  heed  thou  hast  not,  under  our  integrity, 
Shrouded  unlawful  plots  ;  our  mortal  eyes  10 

Pierce  not  the  secrets  of  your  heart,  the  gods 
Are  only  privy  to  them. 

Org.  Learned  Tecnicus, 

Such  doubts  are  causeless  ;  and,  to  clear  the  truth 
From  misconceit,  the  present  state  commands  me. 
The  Prince  of  Argos  comes  himself  in  person  15 

In  quest  of  great  Calantha  for  his  bride. 
Our  kingdom's  heir  ;  besides,  mine  only  sister, 
Euphranea,  is  disposed  to  Prophilus  ; 
Lastly,  the  king  is  sending  letters  for  me 
46 


ACT  III.     SCENE   I.  47 

To  Athens,  for  my  quick  repair  to  court  :  20 

Please  to  accept  these  reasons. 

Tec.  Just  ones,  Orgilus, 

Not  to  be  contradicted  :  yet  beware 
Of  an  unsure  foundation  ;  no  fair  colours 
Can  fortify  a  building  faintly  jointed. 
I  have  observed  a  growth  in  thy  aspect  25 

Of  dangerous  extent,  sudden,  and — look  to't — 
I  might  add,  certain — 

Org.  My  aspect !  could  art 

Run  through  mine  inmost  thoughts,  it  should  not  sift 
An  inclination  there  more  than  what  suited 
With  justice  of  mine  honour. 

Tec.  I  believe  it.  30 

But  know  then,  Orgilus,  what  honour  is  : 
Honour  consists  not  in  a  bare  opinion 
By  doing  any  act  that  feeds  content. 
Brave  in  appearance,  'cause  we  think  it  brave  ; 
Such  honour  comes  by  accident,  not  nature,  35 

Proceeding  from  the  vices  of  our  passion, 
Which  makes  our  reason  drunk  ;  but  real  honour 
Is  the  reward  of  virtue,  and  acquired 
By  justice,  or  by  valour  which  for  basis 
Hath  justice  to  uphold  it.     He  then  fails  40 

In  honour,  who  for  lucre  or  revenge 
Commits  thefts,  murders,  treasons,  and  adulteries, 
With  suchlike,  by  intrenching  on  just  laws, 
Whose  sovereignty  is  best  preserved  by  justice. 
Thus,  as  you  see  how  honour  must  be  grounded       45 
On  knowledge,  not  opinion — for  opinion 
Relies  on  probability  and  accident. 


48  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

But  knowledge  on  necessity  and  truth, — 

I  leave  thee  to  the  fit  consideration 

Of  what  becomes  the  grace  of  real  honour,  50 

Wishing  success  to  all  thy  virtuous  meanings. 

Org.     The   gods    increase    thy   wisdsm,    reverend 
oracle. 
And  in  thy  precepts  make  me  ever  thrifty  ! 

Tec.     I  thank  thy  wish.  {^Exit  Orgilus. 

Much  mystery  of  fate 
Lies  hid  in  that  man's  fortunes  ;  curiosity  55 

May  lead  his  actions  into  rare  attempts  : — 
But  let  the  gods  be  moderators  still ; 
No  human  power  can  prevent  their  will. 

Enter  Armostes  with  a  casket. 

From  whence  come  ye  ? 

Arm.  From  King  Amyclas, — pardon 

My  interruption  of  your  studies, —  Here,  60 

In  this  sealed  box,  he  sends  a  treasure  to  you. 
Dear  to  him  as  his  crown  ;  he  prays  your  gravity, 
You  would  examine,  ponder,  sift,  and  bolt 
The  pith  and  circumstance  of  every  tittle 
The  scroll  within  contains. 

Tec.  What  is't,  Armostes  ?   65 

Arvi.     It  is  the  health  of  Sparta,  the  king's  life, 
Sinews  and  safety  of  the  commonwealth  ; 
The  sum  of  what  the  oracle  delivered 
When  last  he  visited  the  prophetic  temple 
At  Delphos  ;  what  his  reasons  are,  for  which,  70 

After  so  long  a  silence,  he  requires 


ACT  in.     SCEIVE  II.  49 

Your  counsel  now,  grave  man,  his  majesty 
Will  soon  himself  acquaint  you  with. 

Tec.  Apollo  \^He  takes  the  casket. 

Inspire  my  intellect  ! — The  Prince  of  Argos 
Is  entertained  ? 

Arm.  He  is  ;  and  has  demanded  75 

Our  princess  for  his  wife  ;  which  I  conceive 
One  special  cause  the  king  importunes  you 
For  resolution  of  the  oracle. 

Tec.     My  duty  to  the  king,  good  peace  to  Sparta, 
And  fair  day  to  Armostes  ! 

Arm.  Like  to  Tecnicus  !  \^Exeiint. 

Scene  II.      The  Palace.     Ithocles'  Apartment. 

Soft  music.  A  song  tuithtn,  during  which  Prophilus, 
Bassanes,  Penthea,  and  Grausis  pass  over  the 
stage.  Bassanes  and  Grausis  re-enter  softly^  and 
listen  in  different  places. 

Song. 

Can  you  paint  a  thought  ?  or  number 

Every  fancy  in  a  slumber  ? 

Can  you  count  soft  minutes  roving 

From  a  dial's  point  by  moving? 

Can  you  grasp  a  sigh  ?  or,  lastly,  5 

Rob  a  virgin's  honour  chastely? 

No,  O,  no  !  yet  you  may 
Sooner  do  both  that  and  this, 
This  and  that,  and  never  miss, 

Than  by  any  praise  display  10 


50  THE   BROk'EK  HEART. 

Beauty's  beauty  ;  such  a  glory, 
As  beyond  all  fate,  all  story, 
All  arms,  all  arts. 
All  loves,  all  hearts. 
Greater  than  those  or  they,  15 

Do,  shall,  and  must  obey. 
Bass.     All     silent,     calm,      secure. — Grausis,     no 
creaking  ? 
No  noise  ?  dost  thou  hear  nothing? 

Gran.  Not  a  mouse, 

Or  whisper  of  the  wind. 

Bass.  The  floor  is  matted  ; 

The  bedposts  sure  are  steel  or  marble. — Soldiers      20 
Should  not  affect,  methinks,  strains  so  effeminate  : 
Sounds  of  such  delicacy  are  but  fawnings 
Upon  the  sloth  of  luxury,  they  heighten 
Cinders  of  covert  lust  up  to  a  flame. 

Grau.     What  do  you  mean,  my  lord  ?  speak  low  ; 
that  gabbling  25 

Of  yours  will  but  undo  us. 

Bass.  Chamber-combats 

Are  felt,  not  heard. 

Pro.  \iuit]n)i\   He  wakes. 

Bass.  What's  that  ? 

////.   \ivitJiin\  Who's  there  ? 

Sister  ? — All  quit  the  room  else. 

Bass.  'Tis  consented  ! 

Re-euier  Prophilus. 

Pro.     Lord     Bassanes,     your    brother    would     be 
private. 


ACT  I  IT.     SCENE   IT.  5^ 

We  must  forbear  ;  his  sleep  hath  newly  left  him.      30 
Please  ye  withdraw. 

Bass.  By  any  means  ;  'tis  fit. 

Fro.     Pray,  gentlewoman,  walk  too. 

Gran.  Yes,  I  will,  sir.  \_Exeunt. 

The  scene  opens  ;  Ithocles  is  discovered  in  a  chair.,  and 
Penthea  beside  him. 

1th.     Sit  nearer,  sister,  to  me  ;  nearer  yet  : 
We  had  one  father,  in  one  womb  took  life, 
Were  brought  up  twins  together,  yet  have  lived        35 
At  distance,  like  two  strangers  :  I  could  wish 
That  the  first  pillow  whereon  I  was  cradled 
Had  proved  to  me  a  grave. 

Pen.  You  had  been  happy  : 

Then  had  you  never  known  that  sin  of  life 
Which  blots  all  following  glories  with  a  vengeance, 
For  forfeiting  the  last  will  of  the  dead,  41 

For  whom  you  had  your  being. 

////.  Sad  Penthea, 

Thou  canst  not  be  too  cruel ;  my  rash  spleen 
Hath  with  a  violent  hand  plucked  from  thy  bosom 
A  love-blest  heart,  to  grind  it  into  dust ;  45 

For  which  mine's  now  a-breaking. 

Pen.  Not  yet,  Heaven, 

I  do  beseech  thee  !  first  let  some  wild  fires 
Scorch,  not  consume  it  !  may  the  heat  be  cherished 
With  desires  infinite,  but  hopes  impossible  ! 

Ith.  Wronged  soul,  thy  prayers  are  heard. 

Pen.  Here,  lo,  I  breathe. 


52  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

A  miserable  creature,  led  to  ruin  51 

By  an  unnatural  brother  ! 

Ith.  I  consume 

In  languishing  affections  for  that  trespass  ; 
Yet  cannot  die. 

Pen.  The  handmaid  to  the  wages 

Of  country  toil  drinks  the  untroubled  streams  55 

With  leaping  kids  and  with  the  bleating  lambs, 
And  so  allays  her  thirst  secure  ;  whiles  I 
Quench  my  hot  sighs  with  fleetings  of  my  tears. 

////.     The  labourer  doth  eat  his  coarsest  bread. 
Earned  with  his  sweat,  and  lies  him  down  to  sleep  ; 
While  every  bit  I  touch  turns  in  digestion  61 

To  gall  as  bitter  as  Penthea's  curse. 
Put  me  to  any  penance  for  my  tyranny, 
And  I  will  call  thee  merciful. 

Pen.  Pray  kill  me. 

Rid  me  from  living  with  a  jealous  husband  ;  65 

Then  we  will  join  in  friendship,  be  again 
Brother  and  sister. — Kill  me,  pray  ;  nay,  will  ye  ? 

ItJi.     How  does  my  lord  esteem  thee  ? 

Pen.  Such  an  one 

As  only  you  have  made  me  ;  a  faith-breaker, 
A  spotted  whore  : — forgive  me,  I  am  one —  70 

In  act,  not  in  desires,  the  gods  must  witness. 

////.     Thou  dost  belie  thy  friend. 

Pen.  I  do  not,  Ithocles  ; 

For  she  that's  wife  to  Orgilus,  and  lives 
In  known  adultery  with  Bassanes, 
Is  at  the  best  a  whore.     Wilt  kill  me  now  ?  75 


ACT  III.     SCENE   //.  53 

The  ashes  of  our  parents  will  assume 
Some  dreadful  figure,  and  appear  to  charge 
Thy  bloody  guilt,  that  hast  betrayed  their  name 
To  infamy  in  this  reproachful  match, 

Ith.     After  my  victories  abroad,  at  home  80 

I  meet  despair  ;  ingratitude  of  nature 
Hath  made  my  actions  monstrous  :  thou  shalt  stand 
A  deity,  my  sister,  and  be  worshipped 
For  thy  resolved  martyrdom  ;  wronged  maids 
And  married  wives  shall  to  thy  liallowed  shrine        85 
Offer  their  orisons,  and  sacrifice 
Pure  turtles,  crowned  with  myrtle  ;  if  thy  pity 
Unto  a  yielding  brother's  pressure  lend 
One  finger  but  to  ease  it. 

Pen.  O,  no  more  ! 

Ith.     Death  waits  to  waft  me  to  the  Stygian  banks, 
And  free  me  from  this  chaos  of  my  bondage  ;  91 

And  till  thou  wilt  forgive,  I  must  endure. 

Peri.     Who  is  the  saint  you  serve  ? 

Ith.  Friendship,  or  nearness 

Of  birth  to  any  but  my  sister,  durst  not 
Have  moved  that  question  ;  'tis  a  secret,  sister,        95 
I  dare  not  murmur  to  myself. 

Pen.  Let  me. 

By  your  new  protestations  I  conjure  ye, 
Partake  her  name. 

Ith.  Her  name  ? — 'tis — 'tis — T  dare  not. 

Pen.     All  your  respects  are  forged. 

Ith.  They  are  not. — Peace  ' 

Calantha  is — the  princess — the  king's  daughter — 


54  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Sole  heir  of  Sparta. — Me,  most  miserable  !  loi 

Do  I  now  love  thee  ?  for  my  injuries 
Revenge  thyself  with  bravery,  and  gossip 
My  treasons  to  the  king's  ears,  do  : — Calantha 
Knows  it  not  yet,  nor  Prophilus,  my  nearest.  105 

Pen.  Suppose  you  were  contracted  to  her,  would  it 
not 
Split  even  your  very  soul  to  see  her  father 
Snatch  her  out  of  your  arms  against  her  will, 
And  force  her  on  the  Prince  of  Argos  ? 

Ith.  Trouble  not 

The  fountains  of  mine  eyes  with  thine  own  story; 
I  sweat  in  blood  for't. 

Pen.  We  are  reconciled.  in 

Alas,  sir,  being  children  but  two  branches 
Of  one  stock,  'tis  not  fit  we  should  divide  : 
Have  comfort,  you  may  find  it. 

////.  Yes,  in  thee  ; 

Only  in  thee,  Penthea  mine. 

Pen.  If  sorrows  115 

Have  not  too  much  dulled  my  infected  brain, 
I'll  cheer  invention  for  an  active  strain. 

////.     Mad  man  !   why  have  I  wronged  a  maid   so 
excellent ! 

Bassanes  rushes  in  with  a  poniard,  followed  by  Pro- 
philus, Groneas,  Heimophil,  and  Grausis. 

Bass.     I  can  forbear  no  longer  ;  more,  I  will  not : 
Keep  off  your  hands,  or  fall  upon  my  point. —        120 
Patience  is  tired  ;  for,  like  a  slow-paced  ass, 


ACT  in.     SCENE   II.  55 

Ye  ride  my  easy  nature,  and  proclaim 

My  sloth  to  vengeance  a  reproach  and  property. 

Ith.     The  meaning  of  this  rudeness  ? 

Pro.  He's  distracted. 

Pen.     O,  my  grieved  lord  ! — 

Gran.  Sweet  lady,  come  not  near  him  ; 

He  holds  his  perilous  weapon  in  his  hand  126 

To  prick  he  cares  not   whom  nor   where, — see,  see, 
see  ! 

Bass.     My    birth    is    noble  :  though    the    popular 
blast 
Of  vanity,  as  giddy  as  thy  youth. 
Hath  reared  thy  name  up  to  bestride  a  cloud,         130 
Or  progress  in  the  chariot  of  the  sun, 
I  am  no  clod  of  trade,  to  lackey  pride. 
Nor,  like  your  slave  of  expectation,  wait 
The  bawdy  hinges  of  your  doors,  or  whistle 
For  mystical  conveyance  to  your  bed-sports.  135 

Gro.     Fine  humours  !  they  become  him. 

Hem.  How  he  stares, 

Struts,  puffs,  and  sweats  !  most  admirable  lunacy  ! 

Ith.     But  that  I  may  conceive  the  spirit  of  wine 
Has  took  possession  of  your  soberer  custom, 
I'd  say  you  were  unmannerly. 

Pen.  Dear  brother  ! —     140 

Bass.     Unmannerly  ! — mew,  kitling  ! — smooth  for- 
mality 
Is  usher  to  the  rankness  of  the  blood. 
But  impudence  bears  up  the  train.     Indeed,  sir, 
Your  fiery  mettle,  or  your  springal  blaze 


5<^  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Of  huge  renown,  is  no  sufificient  royalty  145 

To  print  upon  my  forehead  the  scorn,  "  cuckold." 
Ith.     His  jealousy  has  robbed  him  of  his  wits  ; 
He  talks  he  knows  not  what. 

Bass.  Yes,  and  he  knows 

To  whom  he  talks  ;  to  one  that  franks  his  lust 
In  swine-security  of  bestial  incest.  150 

////.     Ha,  devil  ! 

Bass.  I  will  halloo't ;  though  I  blush  more 

To  name  the  filthiness  than  thou  to  act  it. 

////.     Monster  !  \D7-aws  his  sword. 

Pro.  Sir,  by  our  friendship — 

Peti.  By  our  bloods — 

Will  you  quite  both  undo  us,  brother  ? 

Grau.  Out  on  him  ! 

These  are  his  megrims,  firks,  and  melancholies.       155 
Heyn.     Well  said,  old  touch-hole. 
Gro.  Kick  him  out  of  doors. 

Pe7i.     With  favour,  let  me  speak. — My  lord,  what 
slackness 
In  my  obedience  hath  deserved  this  rage  ? 
Except  humility  and  silent  duty 

Have  drawn  on  your  unquiet,  my  simplicity  160 

Ne'er  studied  your  vexation. 

Bass.  Light  of  beauty. 

Deal  not  ungently  with  a  desperate  wound  ! 
No  breach  of  reason  dares  make  war  with  her 
Whose  looks  are  sovereignity,  whose  breath  is  balm  : 
O,  that  I  could  preserve  thee  in  fruition  165 

As  in  devotion  ! 


ACT  III.      SCENE   II.  57 

Pen.  Sir,  may  every  evil 

Locked  in  Pandora's  box  shower  in  your  presence 
On  my  unhappy  head,  if,  since  you  made  me 
A  partner  in  your  bed,  I  have  been  faulty 
In  one  unseemly  thought  against  your  honour  !      170 

Ith.     Purge  not  his  griefs,  Penthea. 

Bass.  Yes,  say  on, 

Excellent  creature  !—[7>  Ithocles]     Good,  be   not 

a  hindrance 
To  peace  and  praise  of  virtue. — O,  my  senses 
Are  charmed  with  sounds  celestial  ! — On,  dear,  on  : 
I  never  gave  you  one  ill  word  ;  say,  did  1  ?  175 

Indeed  I  did  not. 

Pen.  Nor,  by  Juno's  forehead, 

Was  I  e'er  guilty  of  a  wanton  error. 

Bass.     A  goddess  !  let  me  kneel. 

Grau.  Alas,  kind  animal  ! 

////.     No  ;  but  for  penance. 

Bass.  Noble  sir,  what  is  it  ? 

With  gladness  I  embrace  it  ;  yet,  pray  let  not         180 
My  rashness  teach  you  to  be  too  unmerciful. 

Ith.     When  you  shall  show  good  proof  that  manly 
wisdom, 
Not  overswayed  by  passion  or  opinion. 
Knows  how  to  lead  your  judgment,  then  this  lady, 
Your  wife,  my  sister,  shall  return  in  safety  185 

Home,  to  be  guided  by  you  ;  but,  till  first 
I  can  out  of  clear  evidence  approve  it. 
She  shall  be  my  care. 

Bass.  Rip  my  bosom  up, 


58  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

I'll  stand  the  execution  with  a  constancy  ; 
This  torture  is  insufferable. 

////.  Well,  sir,  190 

I  dare  not  trust  her  to  your  fury. 

Bass.  But 

Penthea  says  not  so. 

Pen.  She  needs  no  tongue 

To  plead  excuse  who  never  purposed  wrong. 

\^Exit  with  Ithocles  and  Prophilus. 

Hem.     Virgin  of  reverence  and  antiquity, 
Stay  you  behind. 

\To  Grausis,  who  is  folloiuing  Penthea. 

Gro.         The  court  wants  not  your  diligence.       195 
^Exeunt  Hemophil  and  Groneas. 

Gran.     What  will  you  do,  my  lord  ?  my  lady's  gone  ; 

I  am  denied  to  follow. 

Bass.  I  may  see  her, 

Or  speak  to  her  once  more  ? 

Grau.  And  feel  her  too,  man  ; 

Be  of  good  cheer,  she's  your  own  flesh  and  bone. 

Bass.     Diseases  desperate  must  find  cures  alike. 
She  swore  she  has  been  true. 

Grau.  True,  on  my  modesty.     201 

Bass.     Let   him   want   truth    who  credits  not   her 
vows  ! 
Much  wrong  I  did  her,  but  her  brother  infinite  ; 
Rumour  will  voice  me  the  contempt  of  manhood, 
Should  I  run  on  thus  :  some  way  I  must  try  205 

To  outdo  art,  and  jealousy  decry.  [Exeunt. 


ACT  III.     SCENE   III.  59 


Scene  III.     A  Room  in  the  Palace. 
Flourish,     Enter  Amyclas,  Nearchus,  leading  Cal- 

ANTHA,   ArMOSTES,   CrOTOLON,   EuPHRANEA, 

Christalla,  Philema,  and  Amelus. 

Amy.     Cousin  of    Argos,  what  the   heavens  have 
pleased, 
In  their  unchanging  counsels,  to  conclude 
For  both  our  kingdoms'  weal,  we  must  submit  to  : 
Nor  can  we  be  unthankful  to  their  bounties. 
Who,  when  we  were  even  creeping  to  our  grave,        5 
Sent  us  a  daughter,  in  whose  birth  our  hope 
Continues  of  succession.     As  you  are 
In  title  next,  being  grandchild  to  our  aunt, 
So  we  in  heart  desire  you  may  sit  nearest 
Calantha's  love  ;  since  we  have  ever  vowed  10 

Not  to  enforce  affection  by  our  will. 
But  by  her  own  choice  to  confirm  it  gladly. 

Near.     You  speak  the  nature  of  a  right  just  father. 
I  come  not  hither  roughly  to  demand 
My  cousin's  thraldom,  but  to  free  mine  own  :  15 

Report  of  great  Calantha's  beauty,  virtue, 
Sweetness,  and  singular  perfections,  courted 
All  ears  to  credit  what  I  find  was  published 
By  constant  truth  ;  from  which,  if  any  service 
Of  my  desert  can  purchase  fair  construction,  20 

This  lady  must  command  it. 

Cal.  Princely  sir. 

So  well  you  know  how  to  profess  observance, 
That  you  instruct  your  hearers  to  become 


6o  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Practitioners  in  duty  ;  of  which  number 
I'll  study  to  be  chief. 

Near.  Chief,  glorious  virgin,  25 

111  my  devotion,  as  in  all  men's  wonder. 

Aviy.     Excellent  cousin,  we  deny  no  liberty  ; 
Use  thine  own  opportunities, — Armostes, 
We  must  consult  with  the  philosophers  ; 
The  business  is  of  weight. 

Arm.  Sir,  at  your  pleasure.     30 

Amy.     You  told  me,  Crotolon,  your  son's  returned 
From  Athens  :  wherefore  comes  he  not  to  court, 
As  we  commanded  ? 

Crot.  He  shall  soon  attend 

Your  royal  will,  great  sir. 

Amy.  The  marriage 

Between  young  Prophilus  and  Euphranea  35 

Tastes  of  too  much  delay. 

Crot.  My  lord,— 

A7ny.  Some  pleasures 

At  celebration  of  it  would  give  life 
To  the  entertainment  of  the  prince  our  kinsman  ; 
Our  court  wears  gravity  more  than  we  relish. 

Arm.     Yet   the    heavens   smile   on    all   your   high 
attempts,  4° 

Without  a  cloud. 

Crot.  So  may  the  gods  protect  us  ! 

Cal.     A  prince  a  subject  ? 

Near.  Yes,  to  beauty's  sceptre  ; 

As  all  hearts  kneel,  so  mine. 

Cal.  You  are  too  courtly. 


ACT  III.     SCENE   III.  6 1 

Enter  Ithocles,  Orgilus  atid  Prophilus. 

////.     Your  safe  return  to  Sparta  is  most  welcome  : 
I  joy  to  meet  you  here,  and,  as  occasion  45 

Shall  grant  us  privacy,  will  yield  you  reasons 
Why  I  should  covet  to  deserve  the  title 
Of  your  respected  friend  ;  for,  without  compliment, 
Believe  it,  Orgilus,  'tis  my  ambition. 

Org.     Your  lordship  may  command  me,  your  poor 
servant.  50 

Jth.  [aside]    So   amorously   close  I — so    soon  !    my 

heart  ! 
Fro.     What  sudden  change  is  next  ? 

////.  Life  to  the  king  ! 

To  whom  I  here  present  this  noble  gentleman. 
New  come  from  Athens  :  royal  sir.  vouchsafe 
Your  gracious  hand  in  favour  cf  his  merit.  55 

[T/ie  Yixng gives  Orgilus  his  hand  to  kiss. 

Crot.  [aside]  My  son  preferred  by  Ithocles  ! 

Amy.  Our  bounties 

Shall  open  to  thee,  Orgilus  ;  for  instance, — 
Hark  in  thine  ear, — if,  out  of  those  inventions 
Which  flow  in  Athens,  thou  hast  there  engrossed 
Some  rarity  of  wit,  to  grace  the  nuptials  60 

Of  thy  fair  sister,  and  renown  our  court 
In  the  eyes  of  this  young  prince,  we  shall  be  debtor 
To  thy  conceit  :  think  on't. 

Org.  Your  highness  honours  me. 

Near.     My  tongue  and  heart  are  twins. 

Cal.  A  noble  birth. 


62  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Becoming  such  a  father. — Worthy  Orgilus,  65 

You  are  a  guest  most  wished  for. 

Org.  May  my  duty 

Still  rise  in  your  opinion,  sacred  princess  ! 

////.     Euphranea's  brother,  sir ;  a  gentleman 
Well  worthy  of  your  knowledge. 

Near.  We  embrace  him, 

Proud  of  so  dear  acquaintance. 

Amy.  All  prepare  70 

For  revels  and  disport ;  the  joys  of  Hymen, 
Like  Phoebus  in  his  lustre,  put  to  flight 
All  mists  of  dulness,  crown  the  hours  with  gladness  : 
No  sounds  but  music,  no  discourse  but  mirth  ! 

Cal.     Thine  arm,  I  prithee,  Ithocles. — Nay,  good 
My  lord,  keep  on  your  way  ;  I  am  provided.  76 

Near.     I  dare  not  disobey, 

Ith.  Most  heavenly  lady  ! 

\^Exeiint. 

Scene  IV.     A  Room  in  the  House  of  Crotolon. 

Enter  Crotolon  and  Orgilus. 
Crot.     The  king  hath  spoke  his  mind. 

Org.  His  will  he  hath  ; 

But  were  it  lawful  to  hold  plea  against 
The  power  of  greatness,  not  the  reason,  haply 
Such  undershrubs  as  subjects  sometimes  might 
Borrow  of  nature  justice,  to  inform  5 

The  license  sovereignity  holds  without  check 
Over  a  meek  obedience. 

Crot.  How  resolve  you 


ACT  in.     SCENE   IV.  63 

Touching  your  sister's  marriage  ?     Prophilus 
Is  a  deserving  and  a  hopeful  youth. 

Org.     I  envy  not  his  merit,  but  applaud  it ;  10 

Could  wish  him  thrift  in  all  his  best  desires, 
And  with  a  willingness  inleague  our  blood 
With  his,  for  purchase  of  full  growth  in  friendship. 
He  never  touched  on  any  wrong  that  nialiced 
The  honour  of  our  house  nor  stirred  our  peace  :       15 
Yet,  with  your  favour,  let  me  not  forget 
Under  whose  wing  he  gathers  warmth  and  comfort, 
Whose  creature  he  is  bound,  made,  and  must  live  so. 

Crot.     Son,  son,  I  find  in  thee  a  harsh  condition  ; 
No  courtesy  can  win  it,  'tis  too  rancorous.  20 

Org.     Good  sir,  be  not  severe  in  your  construction  ; 
I  am  no  stranger  to  such  easy  calms 
As  sit  in  tender  bosoms  :   lordly  Ithocles 
Hath  graced  my  entertainment  in  abundance  ; 
Too  humbly  hath  descended  from  that  height  25 

Of  arrogance  and  spleen  which  wrought  the  rape 
On  grieved  Penthea's  purity  ;  his  scorn 
Of  my  untoward  fortunes  is  reclaimed 
Unto  a  courtship,  almost  to  a  fawning  : — 
I'll  kiss  his  foot,  since  you  will  have  it  so.  30 

Crot.     Since  I  will  have  it  so  !  friend,  I  will  have 
it  so. 
Without  our  ruin  by  your  politic  plots, 
Or  wolf  of  hatred  snarling  in  your  breast. 
You  have  a  spirit,  sir,  have  ye  ?  a  familiar 
That  posts  i'  the  air  for  your  intelligence  ?  35 

Some  such  hobgoblin  hurried  you  from  Athens, 
For  yet  you  come  unsent  for. 


64  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Org.  If  unwelcome, 

I  might  have  found  a  grave  there. 

Crot.  Sure,  your  business 

Was  soon  dispatched,  or  your  mind  altered  quickly. 

Org.     'Twas  care,  sir,  of  my  health  cut  short   my 
journey  ;  40 

For  there  a  general  infection 
Threatens  a  desolation. 

Crot.  And  I  fear 

Thou  hast  brought  back  a  worse  infection  with  thee, — 
Infection  of  thy  mind  ;  which,  as  thou  say'st, 
Threatens  the  desolation  of  our  family.  45 

Org.     Forbid  it,  our  dear  genius  !  I  will  rather 
Be  made  a  sacrifice  on  Thrasus'  monument, 
Or  kneel  to  Ithocles  his  son  in  dust. 
Than  woo  a  father's  curse.     My  sister's  marriage 
With  Prophilus  is  from  my  heart  confirmed  ;  50 

May  I  live  hated,  may  I  die  despised, 
If  I  omit  to  further  it  in  all 
That  can  concern  me  ! 

Crot.  I  have  been  too  rough. 

My  duty  to  my  king  made  me  so  earnest ; 
Excuse  it,  Orgilus. 

Org.  Dear  sir  ! — 

Crot.  Here  comes  55 

Euphranea,  with  Prophilus  and  Ithocles. 

Enter  Prophilus,  Euphranea,  Ithocles,  Groneas, 
and  Hemophil. 

Org.     Most  honoured  ! — ever  famous  ! 

Ith.  Your  true  friend  ; 


ACT  III.     SCENE   IF.  65 

Cn  earth  not  any  truer. — With  smooth  eyes 
Look  on  this  worthy  couple  ;  your  consent 
Can  only  make  them  one. 

Org.  They  have  it. — Sister,     60 

Thou  pawnedst  to  me  an  oath,  of  which  engagement 
I  never  will  release  thee,  if  thou  aim'st 
At  any  other  choice  than  this. 

Eitp/i.  Dear  brother, 

At  him,  or  none. 

Crot.  To  which  my  blessing's  added. 

Org.     Which,  till  a  greater  ceremony  perfect, —  65 
Euphranea,  lend  thy  hand, — here,  take  her,  Prophilus  : 
Live  long  a  happy  man  and  wife  ;  and  further. 
That  these  in  presence  may  conclude  an  omen. 
Thus  for  a  bridal  song  I  close  my  wishes  : 

\_Sings]    Comforts  lasting,  loves  increasing,  70 

Like  soft  hours  never  ceasing  : 
Plenty's  pleasure,  peace  complying. 
Without  jars,  or  tongues  envying  ; 
Hearts  by  holy  union  wedded. 
More  than  theirs  by  custom  bedded  ; 
Fruitful  issues  ;  life  so  graced,  76 

Not  by  age  to  be  defaced, 
Budding,  as  the  year  ensu'th. 
Every  spring  another  youth  : 
All  what  thought  can  add  beside  80 

Crown  this  bridegroom  and  this  bride  ! 

Pro.     You   have  sealed  joy   close   to    my   soul. — 
Euphranea, 
Now  I  may  call  thee  mine. 


66  THE   BROKE. V  HEART. 

Ith.  I  but  exchange 

One  good  friend  for  another. 

Org.  If  these  gallants 

Will  please  to  grace  a  poor  invention  85 

By  joining  with  me  in  some  slight  device, 
I'll  venture  on  a  strain  my  younger  days 
Have  studied  for  delight. 

Hem.  With  thankful  willingness 

I  offer  my  attendance. 

Gro.  No  endeavour 

Of  mine  shall  fail  to  show  itself. 

Ith.  We  will  90 

All  join  to  wait  on  thy  directions,  Orgilus. 

Org.     O,  my  good  lord,  your  favours  flow  towards 
A  too  unworthy  worm  ; — but  as  you  please  ; 
1  am  what  you  will  shape  me. 

////.  A  fast  friend. 

Crot.     I  thank  thee,  son,  for  this  acknowledgment  ; 
It  is  a  sight  of  gladness. 

Org.  But  my  duty.  \Exeunt. 

Scene  V.     Calantha's  Apartment  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Calantha,  Penthea,  Christalla,  and 
Philema. 

Cat.     Whoe'er    would    speak    with    us,    deny    his 
entrance  ; 
Be  careful  of  our  charge. 

Chris.  We  shall,  madam. 


ACT  III.     SCEiVE  IV.  67 

Cal.     Except  the  king  himself,  give   none  admit- 
tance ; 
Not  any. 

P/ii/.       Madam,  it  shall  be  our  care. 

[^Exeunt  Christalla  and  Philema. 

Ca/.     Pjeing  alone,  Penthea,  you  have  granted         5 
The  opportunity  you  sought,  and  might 
At  all  times  have  commanded. 

Fe;i.  'Tis  a  benefit 

Which  I  shall  owe  your  goodness  even  in  death  for  : 
My  glass  of  life,  sweet  princess,  hath  few  minutes 
Remaining  to  run  down  ;  the  sands  are  spent  ;         10 
For  by  an  inward  messenger  I  feel 
The  summons  of  departure  short  and  certain. 

Cal.     Vou  feel  too  much  your  melancholy. 

Pen.  Glories 

Of  human  greatness  are  but  pleasing  dreams 
And  shadows  soon  decaying  :  on  the  stage  15 

Of  my  mortality  my  youth  hath  acted 
Some  scenes  of  vanity,  drawn  out  at  length 
By  varied  pleasures,  sweetened  in  the  mixture, 
But  tragical  in  issue  :  beauty,  pomp, 
With  every  sensuality  our  giddiness  20 

Doth  frame  an  idol,  are  unconstant  friends, 
When  any  troubled  passion  makes  assault 
On  the  unguarded  castle  of  the  mind. 

Cal.     Contemn  not  your  condition  for  the  proof 
Of  bare  opinion  only  :  to  what  end  25 

Reach  all  these  moral  texts  ? 

Fen.  To  place  before  ye 

A  perfect  mirror,  wherein  you  may  see 


68  7- HE   BROKEN  HEART. 

How  weary  I  am  of  a  lingering  life, 
Who  count  the  best  a  misery. 

Cal.  Indeed 

You  have  no  little  cause  ;  yet  none  so  great  30 

As  to  distrust  a  remedy. 

Pen.  That  remedy 

Must  be  a  winding-sheet,  a  fold  of  lead, 
And  some  untrod-on  corner  in  the  earth. — 
Not  to  detain  your  expectation,  princess, 
I  have  an  humble  suit. 

Cal.  Speak ;  I  enjoy  it.  35 

Pen.     Vouchsafe,  then,  to  be  my  executrix, 
And  take  that  trouble  on  ye  to  dispose 
Such  legacies  as  I  beqeath  impartially  ; 
I  have  not  much  to  give,  the  pains  are  easy  ; 
Heaven  will  reward  your  piety,  and  thank  it  40 

When  I  am  dead  ;  for  sure  I  must  not  live  ; 
I  hope  I  cannot. 

Cal.  Now,  beshrew  thy  sadness, 

Thou  turn'st  me  too  much  woman.  [JVeeJ>s. 

Pen.  [aside]  Her  fair  eyes 

Melt  into  passion. — Then  I  have  assurance 
Encouraging  my  boldness.     In  this  paper  45 

My  will  was  charactered  ;  which  you,  with  pardon, 
Shall  now  know  from  mine  own  mouth. 

Cal.  Talk  on,  prithee  ; 

It  is  a  pretty  earnest. 

Pen.  I  have  left  me 

But  three  poor  jewels  to  bequeath.     The  first  is 
My  youth  ;  for  though  I  am  much  old  in  griefs,       50 
In  years  I  am  a  child. 


ACT  III.     SCENE  IV.  69 

Cal.  To  whom  that  jewel  ? 

Pen.     To  virgin-wives,  such  as  abuse  not  wedlock 
By  freedom  of  desires,  but  covet  chiefly 
The  pledges  of  chaste  beds  for  ties  of  love, 
Rather  than  ranging  of  their  blood  ;  and  next  55 

To  married  maids,  such  as  prefer  the  number 
Of  honourable  issue  in  their  virtues 
Before  the  flattery  of  delights  by  marriage  : 
May  those  be  ever  young  ! 

Cal.  A  second  jewel 

You  mean  to  part  with  ? 

Pen.  'Tis  my  fame,  I  trust       60 

By  scandal  yet  untouched  :  this  I  bequeath  / 

To  Memory,  and  Time's  old  daughter,  Truth.      / 
If  ever  my  unhappy  name  find  mention 
When  I  am  fall'n  to  dust,  may  it  deserve 
Beseeming  charity  without  dishonour  !  65 

Cal.     How  handsomely  thou  play'st  with  harmless 
sport 
Of  mere  imagination  !  speak  the  last. 
I  strangely  like  thy  will. 

Pen.  This  jewel,  madam, 

Is  dearly  precious  to  me  ;  you  must  use 
The  best  of  your  discretion  to  employ  70 

This  gift  as  I  intend  it. 

Cal.  Do  not  doubt  me. 

Pen.     'Tis  long  agone  since  first  I  lost  my  heart  : 
Long  I  have  lived  without  it,  else  for  certain 
I  should  have  given  that  too  ;  but  instead 
Of  it,  to  great  Calantha,  Sparta's  heir,  75 


yo  THE    BROKEN  HEART. 

By  service  bound  and  by  affection  vowed, 
I  do  bequeath,  in  holest  rites  of  love. 
Mine  only  brother,  Ithocles. 

Cal.  What  saidst  thou  ? 

Pen.     Impute  not,  heaven-blest  lady,  to  ambition 
A  faith  as  humbly  perfect  as  the  prayers  80 

Of  a  devoted  suppliant  can  endow  it : 
Look  on  him,  princess,  with  an  eye  of  pity  ; 
How  like  the  ghost  of  what  he  late  appeared 
He  moves  before  you. 

Cal.  Shall  I  answer  here. 

Or  lend  my  ear  too  grossly  ? 

Pen.  First  his  heart  85 

Shall  fall  in  cinders,  scorched  by  your  disdain, 
Ere  he  will  dare,  poor  man,  to  ope  an  eye 
On  these  divine  looks,  but  with  low-bent  thoughts 
Accusing  such  presumption  ;  as  for  words, 
He  dares  not  utter  any  but  of  service  :  90 

Yet  this  lost  creature  loves  ye. — Be  a  princess 
In  sweetness  as  in  blood  ;  give  him  his  doom, 
Or  raise  him  up  to  comfort. 

Cal.  What  new  change 

Appears  in  my  behaviour,  that  thou  dar'st 
Tempt  my  displeasure  ? 

Pen.  I  must  leave  the  world        95 

To  revel  in  Elysium,  and  'tis  just 
To  wish  my  brother  some  advantage  here  ; 
Yet,  by  my  best  hopes,  Ithocles  is  ignorant 
Of  this  pursuit  :  but  if  you  please  to  kill  him, 
Lend  him  one  angry  look  or  one  harsh  word,  100 

And  you  shall  soon  conclude  how  strong  a  power 


ACT  ///.     SCF..VF.    /J\  71 

Your  absolute  authority  holds  over 
His  life  and  end. 

Ca/.  You  have  forgot,  Penthea, 

How  still  I  have  a  father. 

jPeu.  But  remember 

I  am  a  sister,  though  to  me  this  brother  105 

Hath  been,  you  know,  unkind,  O,  most  unkind  ! 

Ca/.     Christalla,  Philema,  where  are  ye  ? — Lady, 
Your  check  lies  in  my  silence. 

Re-enter  Christalla  and  Philema. 
Chris,  and  Pliil.  Madam,  here. 

Cal.     I  think  ye  sleep,  ye  drones  :  wait  on  Penthea 
Unto  her  lodging. — \_Aside'\  Ithocles  ?  wronged  lady! 
Pen.     My    reckonings   are    made   even  ;  death  or 
fate  1 1 1 

Can  now  nor  strike  too  soon  nor  force  too  late. 

[^Exeunt. 


ACT  THE  FOURTH. 

Scene  I.      The  Palace.     Ithocles'  Apartment. 

Enter  Ithocles  and  Armostes. 

Ith.     Forbear  your  inquisition  ;  curiosity 
Is  of  too  subtle  and  too  searching  nature, 
In  fears  of  love  too  quick,  too  slow  of  credit. — 
I  am  not  what  you  doubt  me. 

Arm.  Nephew,  be,  then. 

As  I  would  wish  ; — all  is  not  right. — Good  heaven     5 
Confirm  your  resolutions  for  dependence 
On  worthy  ends,  which  may  advance  your  quiet  ! 

////.     I  did  the  noble  Orgilus  much  injury, 
But  grieved  Penthea  more  :  I  now  repent  it, — 
Now,  uncle,  now  ;  this  "  now  "  is  now  too  late.         10 
So  provident  is  folly  in  sad  issue. 
That  after-wit,  like  bankrupts'  debts,  stands  tallied, 
Without  all  possibilities  of  payment. 
Sure,  he's  an  honest,  very  honest  gentleman  ; 
A  man  of  single  meaning. 

Arm.  I  believe  it  :  15 

Yet,  nephew,  'tis  the  tongue  informs  our  ears  ; 
Our  eyes  can  never  pierce  into  the  thoughts. 
For  they  are  lodged  too  inward  : — but  I  question 
No  truth  in  Orgilus. — The  princess,  sir. 


ACT  IV.     SCEA'E  I.  73 

////.     The  princess  !  ha  ! 

Arm.  With  her  the  Prince  of  Argos.      20 

Enter  Nearchus,  leading  Calantha  ;  Amelus, 
Christalla,  Philema. 

Near.     Great  fair  one,  grace  my  hopes  with  any 
instance 
Of  livery,  from  the  allowance  of  your  favour  ; 
This  little  spark — 

[^Attempts  to  take  a  ring  from  her  finger. 

Cat.  A  toy  ! 

Near.  Love  feasts  on  toys. 

For  Cupid  is  a  child  ; — vouchsafe  this  bounty  : 
It  cannot  be  denied. 

Cal.  You  shall  not  value,  25 

Sweet  cousin,  at  a  price,  what  I  count  cheap  ; 
So  cheap,  that  let  him  take  it  who  dares  stoop  for't. 
And  give  it  at  next  meeting  to  a  mistress  : 
She'll  thank  him  for't,  perhaps. 

\Casts  the  ring  before  Ithocles,  luho  takes  it  up. 

Ame.  The  ring,  sir,  is 

The  princess's  ;  I  could  have  took  it  up.  30 

Ith.     Learn    manners,     prithee. — To   the    blessed 
owner, 
Upon  my  knees —     [^Kneels  and  offers  it  to  Calantha. 

Near.  You're  saucy. 

Cal.  This  is  pretty  ! 

I  am,  belike,  "  a  mistress  " — wondrous  pretty  ! — 


74  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Let  the  man  keep  his  fortune,  since  he  found  it  ; 
He's  worthy  on't. — On,  cousin  ! 

\Exeimt  Nearchus,   Calantha,    Chris- 
TALLA,  and  Philema. 

Ith.  \to  Amelus]  Follow,  spaniel  ;     35 

I'll  force  ye  to  a  fawning  else. 

Ame.  You  dare  not.     \^Exit. 

Ann.     My  lord,  you  were  too  forward. 

Ith.  Look  ye,  uncle, 

Some  such  there  are  whose  liberal  contents 
Swarm  without  care  in  every  sort  of  plenty  ; 
Who  after  full  repasts  can  lay  them  down  40 

To  sleep  ;  and  they  sleep,  uncle  :  in  which  silence 
Their  very  dreams  present  'em  choice  of  pleasures. 
Pleasures — observe  me,  uncle — of  rare  object  ; 
Here  heaps  of  gold,  there  increments  of  honours, 
Now  change  of  garments,  then  the  votes  of  people  ; 
Anon  varieties  of  beauties,  courting,  46 

In  flatteries  of  the  night,  exchange  of  dalliance  : 
Yet  these  are  still  but  dreams.     Give  me  felicity 
Of  which  my  senses  waking  are  partakers, 
A  real,  visible,  material  happiness  ;  50 

And  then,  too,  when  I  stagger  in  expectance 
Of  the  least  comfort  that  can  cherish  life. — 
I  saw  it  sir,  I  saw  it  !  for  it  came 
From  her  own  hand. 

Arm.  The  princess  threw  it  t'ye. 

////.     True  ;  and  she  said — well  I  remember  what — 
Her  cousin  prince  would  beg  it. 

Ar7n.  Yes,  and  parted     56 

In  anger  at  your  taking  on't. 


ACT  IV.     SCEXE   /.  75 

Ith.  Penthea, 

O,  thou  hast  pleaded  with  a  powerful  language  ! 
I  want  a  fee  to  gratify  thy  merit  ; 
But  I  will  do — 

Arm.  What  is't  you  say  ? 

Ith.  In  anger  !     60 

In  anger  let  him  part  ;  for  could  his  breath, 
Like  whirlwinds,  toss  such  servile  slaves  as  lick 
The  dust  his  foosteps  print  into  a  vapour. 
It  durst  not  stir  a  hair  of  mine,  it  should  not ; 
I'd  rend  it  up  by  the  roots  first.     To  be  anything     65 
Calantha  smiles  on,  is  to  be  a  blessing 
More  sacred  than  a  petty  prince  of  Argos 
Can  wish  to  equal  or  in  worth  or  title. 

Arm.     Contain  yourself,  my  lord  :  Ixion,  aiming 
To  embrace  Juno,  bosomed  but  a  cloud,  70 

And  begat  Centaurs  ;  'tis  an  useful  moral  : 
Ambition  hatched  in  clouds  of  mere  opinion 
Proves  but  in  birth  a  prodigy. 

Ith.  I  thank  ye  ; 

Yet,  with  your  license,  I  should  seem  uncharitable 
To  gentler  fate,  if,  relishing  the  dainties  75 

Of  a  soul's  settled  peace,  I  were  so  feeble 
Not  to  digest  it. 

Ann.  He  deserves  small  trust 

Who  is  not  privy-counsellor  to  himself. 

Re-enter  Nearchus  and  Amelus,  with  Orgilus. 

N'ear.     Brave  me  ? 

Org.  Your  excellence  mistakes  his  temper  ; 

For  Ithocles  in  fashion  of  his  mind  80 


76  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Is  beautiful,  soft,  gentle,  the  clear  minor 
Of  absolute  perfection 

Aine.  Was't  your  modesty- 

Termed  any  of  the  prince's  servants  *'  spaniel  "  ? 
Your  nurse,  sure,  taught  you  other  language. 

Jth.  Language  ! 

Near.     A  gallant  man-at-arms  is  here,  a  doctor    85 
In  feats  of  chivalry,  blunt  and  rough-spoken, 
Vouchsafing  not  the  fustian  of  civility. 
Which  less  rash  spirits  style  good  manners. 

Ith.  Manners ! 

Org.     No    more,    illustrious    sir  ;     'tis    matchless 
Ithocles. 

Near.     You  might  have  understood  who  I  am. 

Ith.  Yes,     90 

I  did  ;  else — but  the  presence  calmed  the  affront — 
You're  cousin  to  the  princess. 

Near.  To  the  king  too  ; 

A  certain  instrument  that  lent  supportance 
To  your  colossic  greatness — to  that  king  too. 
You  might  have  added. 

Ith.  There  is  more  divinity     95 

In  beauty  than  in  majesty. 

Arm.  O  fie,  fie  ! 

Near.     This  odd    youth's    pride    turns   heretic   in 
loyalty. 
Sirrah  !  low  mushrooms  never  rival  cedars. 

\Exeunt  Nearchus  and  Amelus. 

////.     Come  back  ! — What  pitiful  dull  thing  am  I 


ACT  IV.     SCENE   I.  77 

So  to  be  tamely  scolded  at  !  come  back  ! —  loo 

Let  him  come  back,  and  echo  once  again 
That  scornful  sound  of  mushroom  !  painted  colts — 
Like  heralds'  coats  gilt  o'er  with  crowns  and  sceptres — 
May  bait  a  muzzled  lion. 

Arm.  Cousin,  cousin, 

Thy  tongue  is  not  thy  friend. 

Org.  In  point  of  honour    105 

Discretion  knows  no  bounds.     Amelus  told  me 
'Twas  all  about  a  little  ring. 

Ith.  A  ring 

The  princess  threw  away,  and  I  took  up  : 
Admit  she  threw't  to  me,  what  arm  of  brass 
Can  snatch  it  hence  ?     No  ;  could  he  grind  the  hoop 
To  powder,  he  might  sooner  reach  my  heart  iii 

Than  steal  and  wear  one  dust  on't. — Orgilus, 
I  am  extremely  wronged. 

Org.  A  lady's  favour 

Is  not  to  be  so  slighted. 

Ith.  Slighted  ! 

Arm.  Quiet 

These  vain  unruly  passions,  which  will  render  ye    115 
Into  a  madness. 

Org.  Griefs  will  have  their  vent. 

Enter  Tecnicus  luith  a  scroll. 

Arm.     Welcome  ;  thou  com'st  in  season,  reverend 
man, 
To  pour  the  balsam  of  a  suppling  patience 
Into  the  festering  wound  of  ill-spent  fury. 


78  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Org.  \aside\  What  makes  he  here  ? 

Tec.  The  hurts  are  yet  but  mortal, 

Which  shortly  will  prove  deadly.     To  the  king,      121 
Armostes,  see  in  safety  thou  deliver 
This  sealed-up  counsel  ;  bid  him  with  a  constancy 
Peruse  the  secrets  of  the  gods.— O  Sparta, 

0  Lacedsemon  !  double-named,  but  one  125 
In  fate  :  when  kingdoms  reel, — mark  well  my  saw,— 
Their  heads  must  needs  be  giddy.     Tell  the  king 
That  henceforth  he  no  more  must  inquire  after 

My  aged  head  ;  Apollo  wills  it  so  : 

1  am  for  Delphos. 

Arm.  Not  without  some  conference     130 

With  our  great  master  ? 

Xec.  Never  more  to  see  him  : 

A  greater  prince  commands  me. — Ithocles, 

"  When  youth  is  ripe,  and  age  from  time  doth  part, 
The  lifeless  trunk  shall  wed  the  broken  heart."     ^ 

Ith.     What's  this,  if  understood  ? 

Tec.  List,  Orgilus  ;     135 

Remember  what  I  told  thee  long  before, 
These  tears  shall  be  my  witness. 

Arm.  'Las,  good  man  ! 

Tec.     "  Let  craft  with  courtesy  a  while  confer, 
Revenge  proves  its  own  executioner." 
Org.     Dark    sentences   are   for    Apollo's   priests; 
I  am  not  CEdipus. 

Tec.  My  hour  is  come  ;  141 

Cheer  up  the  king;  farew^ell  to  all.— O  Sparta, 
O  Lacedsemon  !  \Exit. 


ACT  IV.     SCENE   IT.  79 

Ann.  If  prophetic  fire 

Have  warmed  this  old  man's  bosom,  we  might  construe 
His  words  to  fatal  sense. 

Ith.  Leave  to  the  powers     145 

Above  us  the  effects  of  their  decrees  ; 
My  burthen  lies  within  me  :  servile  fears 
Prevent  no  great  effects. — Divine  Calantha  ! 

Ann.     The  gods  be  still  propitious  ! 

\_Exeunt  Ithocles  and  Armostes. 

Org.  Something  oddlj' 

The  book-man  prated,  yet  he  talked  it  weeping      150 
"  Let  craft  with  courtesy  a  while  confer. 
Revenge  proves  its  own  executioner." 
Con  it  again  ; — for  what  ?     It  shall  not  puzzle  me  ; 
'Tis  dotage  of  a  withered  brain. — Penthea 
Forbade  me  not  her  presence  ;  I  may  see  her,        155 
And  gaze  my  fill.     Why  see  her,  then,  I  may, 
When,  if  I  faint  to  speak — I  must  be  silent.         \Exit. 

Scene  II.     A  Room  in  Bassanes'  House. 
Enter  Bassanes,  Grausis,  and  Phulas. 

Bass.     Pray,  use  your  recreations,  all  the  service 
I  will  expect  is  quietness  amongst  ye  ; 
Take  liberty  at  home,  abroad,  at  all  times, 
And  in  your  charities  appease  the  gods, 
Whom  I,  with  my  distractions,  have  offended.  5 

Grau.     Fair  blessings  on  thy  heart  ! 

Phu.  \aside'\  Here's  a  rare  change  ! 

My  lord,  to  cure  the  itch,  is  surely  gelded  ; 
The  cuckold  in  conceit  hath  cast  his  horns. 


So  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Bass.     Betake  ye  to  your  several  occasions  ; 
And  wherein  I  have  heretofore  been  faulty,  lo 

Let  your  constructions  mildly  pass  it  over  ; 
Henceforth  I'll  study  reformation, — more 
I  have  not  for  employment. 

Grau.  O,  sweet  man  ! 

Thou  art  the  very  "  Honeycomb  of  Honesty." 

Phu.     The   "Garland   of   Good-will."— Old    lady, 
hold  up  15 

Thy  reverend  snout,  and  trot  behind  me  softly, 
As  it  becomes  a  moil  of  ancient  carriage. 

\Exeunt  Grausis  and  Phulas. 

Bass.     Beasts,  only  capable  of  sense,  enjoy 
The  benefit  of  food  and  ease  with  thankfulness  ; 
Such  silly  creatures,  with  a  grudging,  kick  not         20 
Against  the  portion  nature  hath  bestowed  : 
But  men,  endowed  with  reason  and  the  use 
Of  reason,  to  distinguish  from  the  chaff 
Of  abject  scarcity  the  quintessence, 
Soul,  and  elixir  of  the  earth's  abundance,  25 

The  treasures  of  the  sea,  the  air,  nay,  heaven. 
Repining  at  these  glories  of  creation 
Are  verier  beasts  than  beasts  ;  and  of  those  beasts 
The  worst  am  I  :  I,  who  was  made  a  monarch 
Of  what  a  heart  could  wish  for, — a  chaste  wife, —    30 
Endeavoured  what  in  me  lay  to  pull  down 
That  temple  built  for  adoration  only. 
And  level't  in  the  dust  of  causeless  scandal. 
But,  to  redeem  a  sacrilege  so  impious. 
Humility  shall  pour,  before  the  deities  35 

I  have  incensed,  a  largess  of  more  patience 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  If.  8l 

Than  their  displeased  altars  can  require  : 
No  tempests  of  commotion  shall  disquiet 
The  calms  of  my  composure. 

Enter  Orgilus. 

Org.  I  have  found  thee, 

Thou  patron  of  more  horrors  than  the  bulk  40 

Of  manhood,  hooped  about  with  ribs  of  iron. 
Can  cram  within  thy  breast  ;  Penthea,  Bassanes, 
Cursed  by  jealousies, — more,  by  the  dotage, — 
Is  left  a  prey  to  words. 

Bass.  Exercise 

Your  trials  for  addition  to  my  penance  ;  45 

I  am  resolved. 

Org.  Play  not  with  misery 

Past  cure  :  some  angry  minister  of  fate  hath 
Deposed  the  empress  of  her  soul,  her  reason, 
From  its  most  proper  throne  ;  but,  what's  the  miracle 
More  new,  I,  I  have  seen  it,  and  yet  live  !  50 

Bass.     You  may  delude  my  senses,  not  my  judg- 
ment ; 
'Tis  anchored  into  a  firm  resolution  ; 
Dalliance  of  mirth  or  wit  can  ne'er  unfix  it  : 
Practice  yet  further. 

Org.  May  thy  death  of  love  to  her 

Damn  all  thy  comforts  to  a  lasting  fast  55 

From  every  joy  of  life  !     Thou  barren  rock. 
By  thee  we  have  been  split  in  ken  of  harbour. 

Enter  Penthea  urith  her  hair  hose,  Ithocles, 
Armostes,  Philema,  and  Christalla. 

Ith.     Sister,  look  up  ;  your  Ithocles,  your  brother. 


S2  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Speaks  t'ye  ;  why  do  you  weep  ?  dear,  turn  not  from 

me. — 
Here  is  a  killing  sight  ;  lo,  Bassanes,  60 

A  lamentable  object  ! 

Org.  Man,  does  see't  ? 

Sports  are  more  gamesome  ;  am  I  yet  in  merriment  ? 
Why  dost  not  laugh  ? 

Bass.  Divine  and  best  of  ladies, 

Please  to  forget  my  outrage  ;  mercy  ever 
Cannot  but  lodge  under  a  roof  so  excellent  :  65 

I  have  cast  off  that  cruelty  of  frenzy 
Which  once  appeared  imposture,  and  then  juggled 
To  cheat  my  sleeps  of  rest. 

Org.  Was  I  in  earnest  ? 

Pen.     Sure,  if  we  were  all  Sirens,  we   should  sing 
pitifully, 
And  'twere  a  comely  music,  when  in  parts  70 

One  sung  another's  knell  :  the  turtle  sighs 
When  he  hath  lost  his  mate  ;  and  yet  some  say 
He  must  be  dead  first  :  'tis  a  fine  deceit 
To  pass  away  in  a  dream  !  indeed,  I've  slept 
With  mine  eyes  open  a  great  while.     No  falsehood 
Equals  a  broken  faith  ;  there's  not  a  hair  76 

Sticks  on  my  head  but,  like  a  leaden  plummet, 
It  sinks  me  to  the  grave  :  I  must  creep  thither  ; 
The  journey  is  not  long. 

Ith.  But  thou,  Penthea, 

Hast  many  years,  I  hope,  to  number  yet,  80 

Ere  thou  canst  travel  that  way. 

Bass.  Let  the  sun  first 

Be  wrapped  up  in  an  everlasting  darkness. 


ACT  IV.      SCENE   IT.  83 

Before  the  light  of  nature,  chiefly  formed 
For  the  whole  world's  delight,  feel  an  eclipse 
So  universal  ! 

Org.  Wisdom,  look  5'e,  begins  85 

To  rave  ! — art  thou  mad  too,  antiquity  ? 

Pen.     Since  I  was  first  a  wife,  I  might  have  been 
Mother  to  many  pretty  prattling  babes  ; 
They  would  have  smiled  when  I  smiled,  and  for  certain 
I  should  have  cried  when  they  cried  : — truly,  brother. 
My  father  would  have  picked  me  out  a  husband,      91 
And  then  my  little  ones  had  been  no  bastards  ; 
But  'tis  too  late  for  me  to  marry  now, 
I  am  past  child-bearing  ;  'tis  not  my  fault. 

Bass.     Fall  on  me,  if  there  be  a  burning  .-^tna,    95 
And  bury  me  in  flames  !  sweats  hot  as  sulphur 
Boil  through  my  pores  !  affliction  hath  in  store 
No  torture  like  to  this. 

Org.  Behold  a  patience  ! 

Lay-by  thy  whining  gray  dissimulation, 
Do  something  worth  a  chronicle  ;  show  justice       100 
Upon  the  author  of  this  mischief ;  dig  out 
The  jealousies  that  hatched  this  thraldom  first 
With  thine  own  poniard  :  every  antic  rapture 
Can  roar  as  thine  does. 

Ith.  Orgilus,  forbear. 

Bass.     Disturb  him  not  ;  it  is  a  talking  motion 
Provided  for  my  torment.     What  a  fool  am  I  106 

To  bandy  passion  !  ere  FU  speak  a  word, 
I  will  look  on  and  burst. 

Pen.  I  loved  you  once.     \^To  Orgilus. 


84  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Org.     Thou  didst,  wronged  creature  :  in  despite  of 
malice, 
For  it  I  love  thee  ever. 

Fefi.  Spare  your  hand ;  no 

Believe  me,  I'll  not  hurt  it, 

Org.  My  heart  too. 

Pen.     Complain  not  though  I  wring  it  hard  :  I'll 
kiss  it  ; 
O,  'tis  a  fine  soft  palm  ! — hark,  in  thine  ear  ; 
Like  whom  do  I  look,  prithee  ? — nay,  no  whispering. 
Goodness  !  we  had  been  happy  ;  too  much  happiness 
Will  make  folk  proud,  they  say — but  that  is  he —     1 16 

[Pointing  to  Ithocles. 
And  yet  he  paid  for't  home  ;  alas,  his  heart 
Is  crept  into  the  cabinet  of  the  princess  ; 
We  shall  have  points  and  bride-laces.     Remember, 
When  we  last  gathered  roses  in  the  garden,  120 

I  found  my  wits  ;  but  truly  you  lost  yours. 
That's  he,  and  still  'tis  he. 

\_Again pointing  to  Ithocles. 

Ith.  Poor  soul,  how  idly 

Her  fancies  guide  her  tongue  ! 

Bass.  \aside\  Keep  in,  vexation, 

And  break  not  into  the  clamour. 

Org.  \aside\  She  has  tutored  me. 

Some  powerful  inspiration  checks  my  laziness. —     125 
Now  let  me  kiss  your  hand,  grieved  beauty. 

Pen.  Kiss  it. — 

Alack,  alack,  his  lips  be  wondrous  cold  ; 
Dear  soul,  has  lost  his  colour  :  have  ye  seen 


ACT  IV.      SCENE   IT.  85 

A  straying  heart  ?  all  crannies  !  every  drop 

Of  blood  is  turned  to  an  amethyst,  130 

Which  married  bachelors  hang  in  their  ears. 

Org.     Peace  usher  her  into  Elysium  ! — 
If  this  be  madness,  madness  is  an  oracle. 

\Aside,  and  exit. 

Ith.     Christalla,  Philema,  when  slept  my  sister. 
Her  ravings  are  so  wild  ? 

Chris.  Sir,  not  these  ten  days.     135 

Phil.     We  watch  by  her  continually  ;  besides. 
We  can  not  any  way  pray  her  to  eat. 

Bass.     O,  misery  of  miseries  ! 

Pen.  Take  comfort  ; 

You  may  live  well,  and  die  a  good  old  man  : 
By  yea  and  nay,  an  oath  not  to  be  broken,  140 

If  you  had  joined  our  hands  once. in  the  temple, — 
'Twas  since  my  father  died,  for  had  he  lived 
He   would   have   done't, — I   must    have   called   you 

father, — 
O,  my  wrecked  honour  !  ruined  by  those  tyrants, 
A  cruel  brother  and  a  desperate  dotage  145 

There  is  no  peace  left  for  a  ravished  wife 
Widowed  by  lawless  marriage  ;  to  all  memory 
Penthea's,  poor  Penthea's  name  is  strumpeted  : 
But  since  her  blood  was  seasoned  by  the  forfeit 
Of  noble  shame  with  mixtures  of  pollution,  150 

Her  blood — 'tis  just — be  henceforth  never  heightened 
With  taste  of  sustenance  !  starve  ;  let  that  fulness 
Whose  plurisy  hath  fevered  faith  and  modesty — 
Forgive  me  ;  O,  I  faint  ! 

[Falls  into  the  arms  of  her  Attendants. 


86  THE  BR  OK  EX  HEART. 

Arm.  Be  not  so  wilful, 

Sweet  niec€,  to  work  thine  own  destruction. 

////.  Nature 

Will  call  her  daughter  monster  ! — What  !  not  eat  ? 
Refuse  the  only  ordinary  means 
Which  are  ordained  for  life  ?     Be  not,  my  sister, 
A  murderess  to  thyself. — Hear'st  thou  this,  Bassanes  ? 

Bass.     Foh  !  I  am  busy  ;  for  I  have  not  thoughts 
Enow  to  think  :  all  shall  be  well  anon.  i6i 

'Tis  tumbling  in  my  head  ;  there  is  a  mastery 
In  art  to  fatten  and  keep  smooth  the  outside, 
Yes,  and  to  comfort-up  the  vital  spirits 
Without  the  help  of  food,  fumes  or  perfumes,         165 
Perfumes  or  fumes.     Let  her  alone  ;  I'll  search  out 
The  trick  on't 

Pen.  Lead  me  gently  ;  heavens  reward  ye. 

Griefs  are  sure  friends  ;  they  leave  without  control 
Nor  cure  nor  comforts  for  a  leprous  soul. 

\Exit,  supported  by  Christalla  and  Philema. 

Bass.     I  grant  ye  ;  and  will  put  in  practice  instantly 

What  you  shall  still  admire  :  'tis  wonderful,  171 

'Tis  super-singular,  not  to  be  matched  ; 

Yet,  when   I've  done't,    I've    done't :— ye    shall    all 

thank  me.  \Exit. 

Arm.     The  sight  is  full  of  terror. 

jth.  On  my  soul 

Lies  such  an  infinite  clog  of  massy  dulness,  175 

As  that  I  have  not  sense  enough  to  feel  it. — 
See,  uncle,  the  angry  thing  returns  again  ; 
Shall's  welcome  him  with  thunder  ?  we  are  haunted, 


ACT  IV.     SCENE   11.  87 

And  must  use  exorcism  to  conjure  down 
This  spirit  of  malevolence. 

Ar77i.  Mildly,  nephew.  180 

Enter  Nearchus  and  Amelus. 

Near.     I  come  not,  sir,  to  chide  your  late  disorder, 
Admitting  that  the  inurement  to  a  roughness 
In  soldiers  of  your  years  and  fortunes,  chiefly 
So  lately  prosperous,  hath  not  yet  shook  off 
The  custom  of  the  war  in  hours  of  leisure  ;  185 

Nor  shall  you  need  excuse,  since  you're  to  render 
Account  to  that  fair  excellence,  the  princess. 
Who  in  her  private  gallery  expects  it 
From  your  own  mouth  alone  :  I  am  a  messenger 
But  to  her  pleasure. 

2th.  Excellent  Nearchus,  190 

Be  prince  still  of  my  services,  and  conquer 
Without  the  combat  of  dispute  ;  I  honour  ye. 

Near.  The  king  is  on  a  sudden  indisposed. 
Physicians  are  called  for  ;  'twere  fit,  Armostes, 
You  should  be  near  him. 

Arm.  Sir,  I  kiss  your  hands.     195 

\_Exeunt  Ithocles  and  Armostes. 

Near.     Amelus,  I  perceive  Calantha's  bosom 
Is  warmed  with  other  fires  than  such  as  can 
Take  strength  from  any  fuel  of  the  love 
I  might  address  to  her  :  young  Ithocles, 
Or  ever  I  mistake,  is  lord  ascendant  200 

Of  her  devotions  ;  one,  to  speak  him  truly. 
In  every  disposition  nobly  fashioned. 


8»  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Aiiie.     But  can  your  highness  brook  to  be  so  rivalled, 
Considering  the  inequality  of  the  persons  ? 

Near.     I  can,  Amelus  ;  for  affections  injured     205 
By  tyranny  or  rigour  of  compulsion. 
Like  tempest-threatened  trees  unfirmly  rooted. 
Ne'er  spring  to  timely  growth  :  observe,  for  instance, 
Life-spent  Penthea  and  unhappy  Orgilus. 

Ajue.     How  does  your  grace  determine  ? 

Near.  To  be  jealous 

In  public  of  what  privately  I'll  further ;  211 

And  though  they  shall  not  know,  yet  they  shall  find  it. 

\^Exetint. 

Scene  III.     Aft  Apartmevt  in  the  Palace. 

Enter  Auyclas,  led  by  Hemophil  «W  Groneas, /t*/- 
lowed  by  Armostes  with  a  box,  Crotolon,  and 
Prophilus.     Amyclas  is  placed  in  a  chair. 

Amy.     Our  daughter  is  not  near  ? 

Arm.  She  is  retired,  sir, 

Into  her  gallery. 

Amy.  Where's  the  prince  our  cousin  ? 

Pro.     New  walked  into  the  grove,  my  lord. 

Amy.  All  leave  us 

Except  Armostes,  and  you,  Crotolon  ; 
We  would  be  private. 

Pro.  Health  unto  your  majesty  !     5 

\Exeitnt  Prophilus,  Hemophil,  and  Groneas. 
Amy.     What  !     Tecnicus  is  gone? 


ACT  IV.      SCENE    III.  89 

Arm.  He  is  to  Delphos  ; 

And  to  your  royal  hands  presents  this  box. 

Amy.     Unseal  it,  good  Armostes  ;  therein  lie 
The  secrets  of  the  oracle  ;  out  with  it  : 

[AsMOSTES  takes  out  the  scroll. 
Apollo  live  our  patron  !     Read,  Armostes.  10 

Arm.  \_reads\ 

"  The  plot  in  which  the  vine  takes  root 
Begins  to  dry  from  head  to  foot  ; 
The  stock,  soon  withering,  want  of  sap 
Doth  cause  to  quail  the  budding  grape  ; 
But  from  the  neighbouring  elm  a  dew  15 

Shall  drop,  and  feed  the  plot  anew." 
Amy.     That  is  the  oracle  :  what  exposition 
Makes  the  philosopher  ? 

Arm.  This  brief  one  only.    S^Reads. 

"  The  plot  is  Sparta,  the  dried  vine  the  king  ; 
The  quailing  grape  his  daughter  ;  but  the  thing     20 
Of  most  importance,  not  to  be  revealed. 
Is  a  near  prince,  the  elm  :  the  rest  concealed. 

Tecnicus." 
Amy.     Enough  ;  although  the  opening  of  this  riddle 
Be  but  itself  a  riddle,  yet  we  construe 
How  near  our  labouring  age  draws  to  a  rest  :  25 

But  must  Calantha  quail  too  ?  that  young  grape 
Untimely  budded  !  I  could  mourn  for  her  ; 
Her  tenderness  hath  yet  deserved  no  rigour 
So  to  be  crossed  by  fate. 

Arm.  You  misapply,  sir, — 

With  favour  let  me  speak  it, — what  Apollo  30 

Hath  clouded  in  hid  sense  :  I  here  conjecture 


90  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Her   marriage    with    some    neighbouring  prince,  the 

dew 
Of  which  befriending  elm  shall  ever  strengthen 
Your  subjects  with  a  sovereignity  of  power. 

Crot.     Besides,    most   gracious   lord,    the    pith    of 
oracles  35 

Is  to  be  then  digested  when  the  events 
Expound  their  truth,  not  brought  as  soon  to  light 
As  uttered  ;  Truth  is  child  of  Time  :  and  herein 
I  find  no  scruple,  rather  cause  of  comfort. 
With  unity  of  kingdoms. 

Amy.  May  it  prove  so,  40 

For  weal  of  this  dear  nation  ! — Where  is  Ithocles  ? — 
Armostes,  Crotolon,  when  this  withered  vine 
Of  my  frail  carcass,  on  the  funeral  pile 
Is  fired  into  its  ashes,  let  that  young  man 
Be  hedged  about  still  with  your  cares  and  loves  :     45 
Much  owe  I  to  his  worth,  much  to  his  service, — 
Let  such  as  wait  come  in  now. 

Arm.  All  attend  here  ! 

Enter  Calantha,  Ithocles,  Prophilus,  Orgilus, 
EUPHRANEA,  Hemophil,  and  Groneas. 

Cal.     Dear  sir  !  king  !  father ! 

////.  O,  my  royal  master  ! 

Amy.     Cleave  not  my  heart,  sweet  twins  of  my  life's 
solace, 
With  your  forejudging  fears  ;  there  is  no  physic      50 
So  cunningly  restorative  to  cherish 
The  fall  of  age,  or  call  back  youth  and  vigour, 
As  your  consents  in  duty  :  I  will  shake  off 


ACT  IV.     SCENE   III.  9^ 

This  languishing  disease  of  time,  to  quicken 
Fresh  pleasures  in  these  drooping  hours  of  sadness. 
Is  fair  Euphranea  married  yet  to  Prophilus  ?  56 

Crot.     This  morning,  gracious  lord. 

Org.  This  very  morning  ; 

Which,  with  your  highness'  leave,  you  may  observe 

too. 
Our  sister  looks,  methinks,  mirthful  and  sprightly, 
As  if  her  chaster  fancy  could  already  60 

Expound  the  riddle  of  her  gain  in  losing 
A  trifle  maids  know  only  that  they  know  not. 
Pish  !  prithee,  blush  not  ;  'tis  but  honest  change 
Of  fashion  in  the  garment,  loose  for  strait, 
And  so  the  modest  maid  is  made  a  wife  :  65 

Shrewd  business — is't  not,  sister  ? 

Eiiph.  You  are  pleasant. 

Amy.     We  thank  thee,  Orgilus  ;  this  mirth  becomes 
thee. 
But  wherefore  sits  the  court  in  such  a  silence  ? 
A  wedding  without  revels  is  not  seemly. 

Cal.     Your  late  indisposition,  sir,  forbade  it.         70 

Amy.     Be  it  thy  charge,  Calantha,  to  set  forward 
The  bridal  sports,  to  which  I  will  be  present ; 
If  not,  at  least  consenting. — Mine  own  Ithocles, 
I  have  done  little  for  thee  yet. 

////.  You've  built  me 

To  the  full  height  I  stand  in. 

Cal.  \aside\  Now  or  never  !—     75 

May  I  propose  a  suit  ? 

Amy.  Demand,  and  have  it. 


92  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Cal.     Pray,  sir,  give  me  this  young  man,  and  no 
further 
Account  him  yours  than  he  deserves  in  all  things 
To  be  thought  worthy  mine  :  I  will  esteem  him 
According  to  his  merit. 

Amy.  Still  thou'rt  my  daughter, 

Still  grow'st  upon  my  heart. — \To  Ithocles]    Give 
me  thine  hand  ; —  8i 

Calantha,  take  thine  own  :  in  noble  actions 
Thou'lt  find  him  firm  and  absolute. — I  would  not 
Have  parted  with  thee,  Ithocles,  to  any 
But  to  a  mistress  who  is  all  what  I  am.  85 

////.     A  change,  great  king,  most  wished  for,  'cause 
the  same. 

Cal.  [aside  to  Ithocles]  Thou'rt  mine.      Have    I 
now  kept  my  word  ? 

////.   [aside  to  Calantha]  Divinely. 

Org.     Rich    fortunes    guard,    the    favour    of    the 
princess 
Rock  thee,  brave  man,  in  ever-crowned  plenty  ! 
You're  minion  of  the  time  ;  be  thankful  for  it. —      90 
[Aside]  Ho  !  here's  a  swing  in  destiny — apparent  ! 
The  youth  is  up  on  tiptoe,  yet  may  stumble. 

Amy.     On  to  your  recreations. — Now  convey  me 
Unto  my  bed-chamber  :  none  on  his  forehead 
Wear  a  distempered  look. 

A//.  The  gods  preserve  ye  !     95 

Cat.  [aside  to  Ithocles]  Sweet,  be   not   from  my 
sight. 


ACT  IV.     SCEiVE  in.  93 

////.   [aside  to  Calantha]  My  whole  felicity! 

[Amyclas  is  carried  out.     Exeunt  all  but 

Ithocles,  who  is  detained  bj  Orgilus. 

Org.     Shall  I  be  bold,  my  lord  ? 

/t/i.  Thou  canst  not,  Orgilus. 

Call  me  thine  own  ;  for  Prophilus  must  henceforth 
Be  all  thy  sister's  :  friendship,  though  it  cease  not 
In  marriage,  yet  is  oft  at  less  command  loo 

Than  when  a  single  freedom  can  dispose  it. 

Org.     Most  right,   my  most  good   lord,   my   most 
great  lord, 
My  gracious  princely  lord,  I  might  add,  royal. 

It/i.     Royal  !  a  subject  royal  ? 

Org.  Why  not,  pray,  sir  ? 

The  sovereignity  of  kingdoms  in  their  nonage        105 
Stooped  to  desert,  not  birth  ;  there's  as  much  merit 
In  clearness  of  affection  as  in  puddle 
Of  generation  ;  you  have  conquered  love 
Even  in  the  loveliest  ;  if  I  greatly  err  not. 
The  son  of  Venus  hath  bequeathed  his  quiver         no 
To  Ithocles  his  manage,  by  whose  arrows 
Calantha's  breast  is  opened. 

/t/t.  Can't  be  possible  ? 

Org.     I  was  myself  a  piece  of  suitor  once, 
And  forward  in  preferment  too  ;  so  forward. 
That,  speaking  truth,  I  may  without  offence,  sir,    115 
Presume  to  whisper  that  my  hopes,  and — hark  ye — 
My  certainity  of  marriage  stood  assured 
With  as  firm  footing — by  your  leave — as  any's 
Now  at  this  very  instant — but — 


94  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

lih.  'Tis  granted  : 

And  for  a  league  of  privacy  between  us,  120 

Read  o'er  my  bosom  and  partake  a  secret  ; 
The  princess  is  contracted  mine. 

Org.  Still,  why  not  ? 

I  now  applaud  her  wisdom  :  when  your  kingdom 
Stands  seated  in  your  will  secure  and  settled, 
I  dare  pronounce  you  will  be  a  just  monarch  ;         125 
Greece  must  admire  and  tremble. 

1th.  Then  the  sweetness 

Of  so  imparadised  a  comfort,  Orgilus  ! 
It  is  to  banquet  with  the  gods. 

Org.  The  glory 

Of  numerous  children,  potency  of  nobles, 
Bent  knees,  hearts  paved  to  tread  on  ! 

Ith.  With  a  friendship 

So  dear,  so  fast  as  thine. 

Org.  I  am  unfitting  131 

For  office  ;  but  for  service — 

Ith.  We'll  distinguish 

Our  fortunes  merely  in  the  title  ;  partners 
In  all  respects  else  but  the  bed. 

Org.  The  bed  ! 

Forfend  it  Jove's  own  jealousy  ! — till  lastly  135 

We  slip  down  in  the  common  earth  together  ; 
And  there  our  beds  are  equal  ;    save    some   monu- 
ment 
To  show  this  was  the  king,  and  this  the  subject. — 

\^Soft,  sad  music. 
List,  what  sad  sounds  are  these, — extremely  sad  ones  ': 


ACT  IV.     SCENE   IV.  95 

Ith.     Sure,  from  Penthea's  lodgings. 

Org.  Hark  !  a  voice  too. 

Song  within. 

O,  no  more,  no  more,  too  late  141 

Sighs  are  spent ;  the  burning  tapers 

Of  a  life  as  chaste  as  fate, 
Pure  as  are  unwritten  papers. 

Are  burnt  out  :  no  heat,  no  light  145 

Now  remains  ;  'tis  ever  night. 

Love  is  dead  ;  let  lover's  eyes. 

Locked  in  endless  dreams, 

Th'  extremes  of  all  extremes, 
Ope  no  more,  for  now  Love  dies,  150 

Now  Love  dies, — implying 
Love's  martyrs  must  be  ever,  ever  dying. 

////.     O,  my  misgiving  heart  ! 

Org.  A  horrid  stillness 

Succeeds  this  deathful  air  ;  let's  know  the  reason  : 
Tread  softly  ;  there  is  mystery  in  mourning.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  IV,     Penthea's  Apartment  in  the  Palace. 

Penthea  discovered  in  a  chair,  veiled ;  Christalla 
and  Philema  at  her  feet  mourning.  Enter  tivo 
Servants  ivith  txvo  other  chairs,  one  with  an  engine. 

Enter  Ithocles  and  Orgilus. 

\st  Ser.  [aside  to  Orgilus]  'Tis  done  ;  that  on  her 

right  hand. 
Org.  Good  :  begone.        [Exeunt  Servants. 


96  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Ith.     Soft  peace  enrich  this  room  ! 

Org.  How  fares  this  lady  ? 

Phil.     Dead ! 

Chris.  Dead  ! 

Phil.  Starved  ! 

Chris.  Starved  ! 

Ith.  Me  miserable  ! 

Org.  Tell  us 

How  parted  she  from  life. 

Phil.  She  called  for  music, 

And  begged  some  gentle  voice  to  tune  a  farewell       5 
To  life  and  griefs  :  Christalla  touched  the  lute  ; 
I  wept  the  funeral  song. 

Chris.  Which  scarce  was  ended 

But  her  last  breath  sealed-up  these  hollow  sounds, 
"  O,  cruel  Ithocles  and  injured  Orgilus  ! " 
So  down  she  drew  her  veil,  so  died. 

////.  So  died  !         10 

Org.     Up  !  you    are    messengers    of     death  ;    go 
from  us  ;  [Christalla  and  Philema  rise. 

Here's  woe  enough  to  court  without  a  prompter  : 
Away  ;  and — hark  ye — till  you  see  us  next. 
No  syllable  that  she  is  dead. — Away, 
Keep  a  smooth  brow. 

[^.r^/^;// Christalla  a;/^f  Philema. 
My  lord, — 

1th.  Mine  only  sister  !       15 

Another  is  not  left  me. 

Org.  Take  that  chair  ; 

I'll  seat  me  here  in  this  :  between  us  sits 


ACT  IV.     SCENE    //'.  97 

The  object  of  our  sorrows  ;  some  few  tears 

We'll  part  among  us  ;  I  perhaps  can  mix 

One  lamentable  story  to  prepare  'em. —  20 

There,  there  ;  sit  there,  my  lord. 

Ith.  Yes,  as  you  please. 

\^Sits  down.,  the  chair  closes  upon  him. 
What  means  this  treachery  ? 

Org.  Caught  !  you  are  caught, 

Young  master ;  'tis  thy  throne  of  coronation, 
Thou  fool  of  greatness  !     See,  I  take  this  veil  off  ; 
Survey  a  beauty  withered  by  the  flames  25 

Of  an  insulting  Phaeton,  her  brother. 

////.     Thou  mean'st  to  kill  me  basely  ? 

Org.  I  foreknew 

The  last  act  of  her  life,  and  trained  thee  hither 
To  sacrifice  a  tyrant  to  a  turtle. 

You  dreamt  of  kingdoms,  did  ye  ?  how  to  bosom     30 
The  delicacies  of  a  youngling  princess  ; 
How  with  this  nod  to  grace  that  subtle  courtier. 
How  with  that  frown  to  make  this  noble  tremble, 
And  so  forth  ;  while  Penthea's  groans  and   tortures, 
Her  agonies,  her  miseries,  afflictions,  35 

Ne'er  touched  upon  your  thought :  as  for  my  injuries, 
Alas,  they  were  beneath  your  royal  pity  ; 
But  yet  they  lived,  thou  proud  man,  to  confound  thee. 
Behold  thy  fate  ;  this  steel  !  \^Draws  a  dagger. 

Ith.  Strike  home  !     A  courage 

As  keen  as  thy  revenge  shall  give  it  welcome  :  40 

But  prithee  faint  not  ;  if  the  wound  close  up. 
Tent  it  with  double  force,  and  search  it  deeply. 
Thou  look'st  that  I  should  whine  and  beg  compassion, 


98  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

As  loth  to  leave  the  vainness  of  my  glories  ; 

A  statelier  resolution  arms  my  confidence,  45 

To  cozen  thee  of  honour  ;  neither  could  I 

With  equal  trial  of  unequal  fortune 

By  hazard  of  a  duel  ;  'twere  a  bravery 

Too  mighty  for  a  slave  intending  murder. 

On  to  the  execution,  and  inherit  50 

A  conflict  with  thy  horrors. 

Org.  By  Apollo, 

Thou  talk'st  a  goodly  language  !  for  requital 
I  will  report  thee  to  thy  mistress  richly  : 
And  take  this  peace  along  ;  some  few  short  minutes 
Determined,  my  resolves  shall  quickly  follow  55 

Thy  wrathful  ghost  ;  then,  if  we  tug  for  mastery, 
Penthea's  sacred  eyes  shall  lend  new  courage. 
Give  me  thy  hand  :  be  healthful  in  thy  parting 
From  lost  mortality  !  thus,  thus  I  free  it.     \^Stabs  him. 

Ith.     Yet,  yet,  I  scorn  to  shrink. 

Org.  Keep  up  thy  spirit  : 

I  will  be  gentle  even  in  blood  ;  to  linger  61 

Pain,  which  I  strive  to  cure,  were  to  be  cruel. 

\^Stabs  /ii?n  again. 

1th.     Nimble  in  vengeance,  I  forgive  thee.      Follow 
Safety,  with  best  success  :  O,  may  it  prosper  ! — 
Penthea,  by  thy  side  thy  brother  bleeds  ;  65 

The  earnest  of  his  wrongs  to  thy  forced  faith. 
Thoughts  of  ambition,  or  delicious  banquet 
With  beauty,  youth,  and  love,  together  perish 
In  my  last  breath,  which  on  the  sacred  altar 
Of  a  long-looked-for  peace — now — moves — to  heaven. 

^Dies. 


ACT  IV.      SCENE   IV.  99 

Org.     Farewell,  fair  spring  of  manhood  !  henceforth 


welcome 


71 


Best  expectation  of  a  noble  sufferance. 
I'll  lock  the  bodies  safe,  till  what  must  follow 
Shall   be   approved. — Sweet   twins,   shine   stars   for- 
ever ! — 
In  vain  they  build  their  hopes  whose  life  is  shame  : 
No  monument  lasts  but  a  happy  name.  76 

\Locks  the  door,  and  exit. 


ACT  THE  FIFTH. 

Scene  I.     A  Roo/n  in  Bassanes'  House. 

Enter  Bassanes. 

Bass.     Athens — to  Athens  I  have  sent,  the  nursery 
Of  Greece  for  learning  and  the  fount  of  knowledge  ; 
For  here  in  Sparta  there's  not  left  amongst  us 
One  wise  man  to  direct  ;  we're  all  turned  madcaps, 
'Tis  said  Apollo  is  the  god  of  herbs,  5 

Then  certainly  he  knows  the  virtue  of  'em  : 
To  Delphos  I  have  sent  too.     If  there  can  be 
A  help  for  nature,  we  are  sure  yet. 

Enter  Orgilus, 
Org.  Honour 

Attend  thy  counsels  ever  ! 

Bass.  I  beseech  thee 

With  all  my  heart,  let  me  go  from  thee  quietl}'  ;        10 
I  will  not  aught  to  do  with  thee,  of  all  men. 
The  doubles  of  a  hair, — or,  in  a  morning. 
Salutes  from  a  splay-footed  witch, — to  drop 
Three  drops  of  blood  at  th'  nose  just  and  no  more, — 
Croaking  of  ravens,  or  the  screech  of  owls,  15 

Are  not  so  boding  mischief  as  thy  crossing 
My  private  meditations  :  shun  me,  prithee  ; 
And  if  1  cannot  love  thee  heartily, 
I'll  love  thee  as  well  as  T  can. 


ACT    V.      SCEMR   I.  lOl 

Org.  Noble  Bassanes, 

Mistake  me  not. 

Bass.  Phew  !  then  we  shall  be  troubled.     20 

Thou  wert  ordained    my    plague — heaven  make  me 

thankful, 
And  give  me  patience  too,  heaven,  I  beseech  thee. 

Org.     Accept  a  league  of  amity  ;  for  henceforth, 
I  vow,  by  my  best  genius,  in  a  syllable. 
Never  to  speak  vexation  ;  I  will  study  25 

Service  and  friendship,  with  a  zealous  sorrow 
For  my  past  incivility  towards  ye. 

Bass.     Hey-day,  good  words,  good  words  !    I  must 
believe  'em. 
And  be  a  coxcomb  for  my  labour. 

Org.  Use  not 

So  hard  a  language  ;  your  misdoubt  is  causeless  :     30 
For  instance,  if  you  promise  to  put  on 
A  constancy  of  patience,  such  a  patience 
As  chronicle  or  history  ne'er  mentioned, 
As  follows  not  example,  but  shall  stand 
A  wonder  and  a  theme  for  imitation,  35 

The  first,  the  index  pointing  to  a  second, 
I  will  acquaint  ye  with  an  unmatched  secret, 
Whose  knowledge  to  your  griefs  shall  set  a  period. 

Bass.     Thou  canst  not,  Orgilus  ;  'tis  in  the  power 
Of  the  gods  only  :  yet,  for  satisfaction,  40 

Because  I  note  an  earnest  in  thine  utterance, 
Unforced  and  naturally  free,  be  resolute. 
The  virgin-bays  shall  not  withstand  the  lightning 
With  a  more  careless  danger  than  my  constancy 
The  full  of  thy  relation  ;  could  it  move  45 


I02  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Distraction  in  a  senseless  marble  statue, 
It  should  find  me  a  rock  :  I  do  expect  now 
Some  truth  of  unheard  moment. 

Org.  To  your  patience 

You  must  add  privac3%  as  strong  in  silence 
As  mysteries  locked-up  in  Jove's  own  bosom.  50 

Bass.     A  skull  hid  in  the  earth  a  treble  age 
Shall  sooner  prate. 

Org.  Lastly,  to  such  direction 

As  the  severity  of  a  glorious  action 
Deserves  to  lead  your  wisdom  and  your  judgment, 
You  ought  to  yield  obedience. 

Bass.  With  assurance         55 

Of  will  and  thankfulness. 

Org.  With  manly  courage 

Please,  then,  to  follow  me. 

Bass.  Where'er,  I  fear  not.  \Exeunt. 

Scene  II.     A  State-room  in  t/ie  Palace. 

A  flourish.  Eiiter  Euphranea  led  by  Groneas  a«^ 
Hemophil  ;  Prophilus,  led  by  Christalla  and 
Philema  ;  Nearchus  supporting  Calantha  ; 
Crotolon  and  Amelus. 

Cal.     We  miss  our  servant  Ithocles  and  Orgilus  ; 
On  whom  attend  they  ? 

Crot.  My  son,  gracious  princess, 

Whispered  some  new  device,  to  which  these  revels 
Should  be  but  usher  :  wherein  I  conceive 
Lord  Ithocles  and  he  himself  are  actors.  5 


ACT    V.     SCENE   IT.  103 

Cal.     A  fair  excuse  for  absence  :  as  for  Bassanes, 
Delights  to  liini  are  troublesome  :  Armostes 
Is  with  the  king  ? 

Crot.  He  is. 

CaL  On  to  the  dance  ! — 

Dear  cousin,  hand    you  the   bride  ;    the  bridegroom 

must  be 
Intrusted  to  my  courtship.     Be  not  jealous,  10 

Euphranea  ;  I  shall  scarcely  prove  a  temptress. — 
Fall  to  our  dance. 

The  Revels. 

Music.  Nearchus  dances  with  Euphranea,  Pro- 
PHiLUS  7vitk  Calantha,  Christalla  with  Hemo- 
PHiL,  Philema  tvith  Groneas. 

They  dance  the  first  change  ;  during  which  Armostes 
enters. 

Arm.      [whispers    Calantha]     The     king     your 
father's  dead. 

CaL     To  the  other  change. 
Arfn.  Is't  possible  ? 

They  dance  the  second  change. 
Enter  Bassanes. 
Bass,  [whispers  Calantha]  O,  madam  ! 

Penthea,  poor  Penthea's  starved. 

Cal.  Beshrew  thee  ! — 

Lead  to  the  next. 
Bass.  Amazement  dulls  my  senses.        15 

They  dance  the  third  chatige. 


104  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

Enter  Orgilus. 

Org.     [whispers     Calantha]     Brave    Ithocles    is 
murdered,  murdered  cruelly. 

Cai.     How   dull   this    music   sounds  !     Strike    up 
more  sprightly  ; 
Our  footings  are  not  active  like  our  heait, 
Which  treads  the  nimbler  measure. 

Org.  1  am  thunderstruck. 

T/ie  last  change. 

Cal.     So  !  let  us  breathe  awhile.     \_Music  ceases.] — 
Hath  not  this  motion  21 

Raised  fresher  colour  on  our  cheeks  ? 

Near.  Sweet  princess, 

A  perfect  purity  of  blood  enamels 
The  beauty  of  your  white. 

Cal.  We  all  look  cheerfully  : 

And,  cousin,  'tis  methinks  a  rare  presumption 
In  any  who  prefer  our  lawful  pleasures  25 

Before  their  own  sour  censure,  t'  interrupt 
The  custom  of  this  ceremony  bluntly. 

Near.     None  dares,  lady. 

Cal.     Yes,  yes  ;  some  hollow  voice  delivered  to  me 
How  that  the  king  was  dead. 

Arm.  The  king  is  dead  :     30 

That  fatal  news  was  mine  ;  for  in  mine  arms 
He  breathed  his  last,  and  with  his  crown  bequeathed 

ye 
Your  mother's  wedding-ring  ;  which  here  I  tender. 

Crot.     Most  strange  ! 


ACT    V.     SCENE   II.  105 

Cai.     Peace  crown  his  ashes  !    We  are  queen,  then. 

Near.     Long   Uve   Calantha  !     Sparta's  sovereign 
queen  !  35 

AH.     Long  live  the  queen  ! 

Cal.  What  whispered  Bassanes  ? 

Bass.     That  my  Penthea,  miserable  soul, 
Was  starved  to  death. 

Cal.  She's  happy  ;  she  hath  finished 

A  long  and  painful  progress. — A  third  murmur 
Pierced  mine  unwilling  ears. 

Org.  That  Ithocles  40 

Was  murdered  ; — rather  butchered,  had  not  bravery 
Of  an  undaunted  spirit,  conquering  terror, 
Proclaimed  his  last  act  triumph  over  ruin. 

Arm.     How  !  murdered  ' 

Cal.  By  whose  hand  ? 

Org.  By  mine  ;  this  weapon 

Was  instrument  to  my  revenge  :  the  reasons  45 

Are  just,  and  known  ;  quit  him  of  these,  and  then 
Never  lived  gentleman  of  greater  merit, 
Hope  or  abiliment  to  steer  a  kingdom. 

Crot.     Fie,  Orgilus  ! 

Euph.  Fie,  brother  ! 

Cal.  You  have  done  it  ? 

Bass.     How  it  was  done  let  him  report,  the  forfeit 
Of  whose  allegiance  to  our  laws  doth  covet  51 

Rigour  of  justice  ;  but  that  done  it  is 
Mine  eyes  have  been  an  evidence  of  credit 
Too  sure  to  be  convinced.     Armostes,  rend  not 


io6  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Thine  arteries  with  hearing  the  bare  circumstances 

Of  these  calamities  ;  thou'st  lost  a  nephew,  56 

A  niece,  and  I  a  wife  :  continue  man  still ; 

Make  me  the  pattern  of  digesting  evils, 

Who  can  outlive  my  mighty  ones,  not  shrinking 

At  such  a  pressure  as  would  sink  a  soul  60 

Into  what's  most  of  death,  the  worst  of  horrors. 

But  I  have  sealed  a  covenant  with  sadness, 

And  entered  into  bonds  without  condition, 

To  stand  these  tempests  calmly  ;  mark  me,  nobles, 

I  do  not  shed  a  tear,  not  for  Penthea  !  65 

Excellent  misery  ! 

Cal.  We  begin  our  reign 

With  a  first  act  of  justice  :  thy  confession. 
Unhappy  Orgilus,  dooms  thee  a  sentence  ; 
But  yet  thy  father's  or  thy  sister's  presence 
Shall  be  excused. — Give,  Crotolon,  a  blessing  70 

To  thy  lost  son  ; — Euphranea,  take  a  farewell  ; — 
And  both  be  gone. 

Crot.  \to  Orgilus.]  Confirm  thee  noble  sorrow 
In  worthy  resolution  ! 

Euph.  Could  my  tears  speak. 

My  griefs  were  slight. 

Org.  All  goodness  dwell  amongst  ye  I 

Enjoy  my  sister,  Prophilus  :  my  vengeance  75 

Aimed  never  at  thy  prejudice. 

Cal.  Now  withdraw. 

[Exeunt  Crotolon,  Prophilus,  and  Euphranea. 
Bloody  relater  of  thy  stains  in  blood. 
For  that  thou  hast  reported  him,  whose  fortunes 
And  life  by  thee  are  both  at  once  snatched  from  him, 


ACT    V.     SCENE   II.  107 

With  honourable  mention,  make  thy  choice  80 

Of    what    death    likes   thee    best  ;    there's   all    our 

bounty. — 
But  to  excuse  delays,  let  me,  dear  cousin, 
Intreat  you  and  these  lords  see  execution 
Instant  before  ye  part. 

Near.  Your  will  commands  us. 

Org.     One   suit,    just  queen,   my   last  ;  vouchsafe 
your  clemency,  85 

That  by  no  common  hand  I  be  divided 
From  this  my  humble  frailty. 

Cat.  To  their  wisdoms 

Who  are  to  be  spectators  of  thine  end 
I  make  the  reference  :  those  that  are  dead 
Are  dead  ;  had  they  not  now  died,  of  necessity         90 
They  must  have  paid  the  debt  they  owed  to  nature 
One  time  or  other. — Use  dispatch,  my  lords  ; 
We'll  suddenly  prepare  our  coronation. 

[-Sjc^^z/z/Calantha,  Philema,  «//^ Christ alla. 

Artn.     'Tis   strange   these  tragedies  should   never 
touch  on 
Her  female  pity. 

Bass.  She  has  a  masculine  spirit ;  95 

And  wherefore  should  I  pule,  and,  like  a  girl, 
Put  finger  in  the  eye  ?  let's  be  all  toughness, 
Without  distinction  betwixt  sex  and  sex. 

Near.     Now,  Orgilus,  thj  choice  ? 

Org.  To  bleed  to  death. 

Artn.     The  executioner  ? 

Org.  Myself,  no  surgeon ;       100 


lo8  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

I  am  well  skilled  in  letting  blood.     Bind  fast 

This  arm,  that  so  the  pipes  may  from  their  conduits 

Convey  a  full  stream  ;  here's  a  skilful  instrument ; 

yShoivs  his  dagger. 
Only  I  am  a  beggar  to  some  charity 
To  speed  me  in  this  execution  105 

By  lending  th'  other  prick  to  the  tother  arm, 
When  this  is  bubbling  life  out. 

Bass.  I  am  for  ye  ; 

It  most  concerns  my  art,  my  care,  my  credit. — 
Quick  fillet  both  his  arms. 

Org.  Grammercy,  friendship  ! 

Such  courtesies  are  real  which  flow  cheerfully         no 
Without  an  expectation  of  requital. 
Reach  me  a  staff  in  this  hand.     [  They  give  him  a  staff. '\ 

— If  a  proneness 
Or  custom  in  my  nature  from  my  cradle 
Had  been  inclined  to  fierce  and  eager  bloodshed, 
A  coward  guilt,  hid  in  a  coward  quaking,  115 

Would  have  betrayed  me  to  ignoble  flight 
And  vagabond  pursuit  of  dreadful  safety  : 
But  look  upon  my  steadiness,  and  scorn  not 
The  sickness  of  my  fortune,  which  since  Bassanes 
Was  husband  to  Penthea  had  lain  bed -rid.  120 

We  trifle  time  in  words  : — thus  I  show  cunning 
In  opening  of  a  vein  too  full,  too  lively. 

\^Pierces  the  vein  with  his  dagger. 

Arm.     Desperate  courage  ! 

Near.  Honourable  infamy  ! 

Hem.     I  tremble  at  the  sight. 

Gro.  Would  I  were  loose  ! 


ACT    V.     SCENE  II.  1 09 

Bass.     It  sparkles  like  a  lusty  wine  new  broached  ; 
The  vessel  must  be  sound  from  which  it  issues. — 
Grasp  hard  this  other  stick — I'll  be  as  nimble — 
But  prithee,  look  not  pale — have  at  ye  !  stretch  out 
Thine  arm  with  vigour  and  with  unshook  virtue. 

\Opens  the  vein. 
Good  !     O,  I  envy  not  a  rival,  fitted  130 

To  conquer  in  extremities  :  this  pastime 
Appears  majestical ;  some  high-tuned  poem 
Hereafter  shall  deliver  to  posterity 
The  writer's  glory  and  his  subject's  triumph. 
How  is't,  man  ? — droop  not  yet. 

Org.  I  feel  no  palsies. 

On  a  pair-royal  do  I  wait  in  death  ;  136 

My  sovereign,  as  his  liegeman  ;  on  my  mistress, 
As  a  devoted  servant  ;  and  on  Ithocles, 
As  if  no  brave,  yet  no  unworthy  enemy  : 
Nor  did  I  use  an  engine  to  entrap  140 

His  life,  out  of  a  slavish  fear  to  combat 
Youth,  strength,  or  cunning  ;  but  for  that  I  durst  not 
Engage  the  goodness  of  a  cause  on  fortune. 
By  which  his  name  might  have  outfaced  my  venge- 
ance. 
O,  Tecnicus,  inspired  with  Phoebus'  fire  !  145 

I  call  to  mind  thy  augury,  'twas  perfect  ; 
"  Revenge  proves  its  own  executioner." 
When  feeble  man  is  bending  to  his  mother. 
The  dust  he  was  first  framed  on,  thus  he  totters. 

Bass.     Life's  fountain  is  dried  up. 

Org.  So  falls  the  standard 

Of  m.y  prerogative  in  being  a  creature  !  151 


no  THE   BROKE X  HEART. 

A  mist  hangs  o'er  mine  eyes,  the  sun's  bright  splen- 
dour 
Is  clouded  in  an  everlasting  shadow  ; 
Welcome,  thou  ice,  that  sitt'st  about  my  heart, 
No  heat  can  ever  thaw  thee.  [^Dies. 

Near.  Speech  hath  left  him.     155 

Bass.     He  has  shook  hands  with  time  ;   his  funeral 
urn 
Shall  be  my  charge  :  remove  the  bloodless  body. 
The  coronation  must  require  attendance  ; 
That  past,  my  few  days  can  be  but  one  mourning. 

YExeujit. 

Scene  III.     A   Temple. 

An  altar  covered  iviih  white  j  tivo  lights  of  virgin  wax 
upon  it.  Recorders  play.,  during  zvhich  enter  At- 
tendants bearing  Ithocles  on  a  hearse  {in  a  rich 
robe,  with  a  crown  on  his  head)  and  place  him  on  one 
side  of  the  altar.  Afterwards  enter  Calantha  /// 
white,  crowned,  attended  by  Euphranea,  Philema, 
and  Christalla,  also  in  white ;  Nearchus, 
Armostes.  Crotolon,  Prophilus,  Amelus, 
Bassanes,  Hemophil,  and  Groneas. 

Calantha  kneels  before  the  altar,  the  Ladies  kneeling 
behifid  her,  the  rest  stand  off.  The  recorders  cease 
during  her  devotions.  Soft  imisic.  Calantha 
and  the  rest  rise,  doifig  obeisance  to  the  altar. 
Cal.  Our  orisons  are  heard  ;  the  gods  are  merci- 
ful— 

Now  tell  me,  you  whose  loyalties  pay  tribute 

To  us  your  lawful  sovereign,  how  unskilful 


ACT    V.     SCENE   III.  Ill 

Your  duties  or  obedience  is  to  render 

Subjection  to  the  sceptre  of  a  virgin,  5 

Who  have  been  ever  fortunate  in  princes 

Of  masculine  and  stirring  composition. 

A  woman  has  enough  to  govern  wisely 

Her  own  demeanours,  passions,  and  divisions. 

A  nation  warlike  and  inured  to  practice  10 

Of  policy  and  labour  cannot  brook 

A  feminate  authority  :  we  therefore 

Command  your  counsel,  how  you  may  advise  us 

In  choosing  of  a  husband,  whose  abilities 

Can  better  guide  this  kingdom. 

Near.  Royal  lady,  15 

Your  law  is  in  your  will. 

Artn.  We  have  seen  tokens 

Of  constancy  too  lately  to  mistrust  it. 

Crot.     Yet,  if  your  highness  settle  on  a  choice 
By  your  own  judgment  both  allowed  and  liked  of, 
Sparta  may  grow  in  power,  and  proceed  20 

To  an  increasing  height. 

Ca/.  Hold  you  the  same  mind  ? 

Bass.     Alas,  great  mistress,  reason  is  so  clouded 
With  the  thick  darkness  of  my  infinite  woes. 
That  I  forecast  nor  dangers,  hopes,  or  safety. 
Give  me  some  corner  of  the  world  to  wear  out  25 

The  remnant  of  the  minutes  I  must  number. 
Where  I  may  hear  no  sounds  but  sad  complaints 
Of  virgins  who  have  lost  contracted  partners  ; 
Of  husbands  howling  that  their  wives  were  ravished 
By  some  untimely  fate  ;  of  friends  divided  30 

By  churlish  opposition  ;  or  of  fathers 


112  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Weeping  upon  their  children's  slaughter'd  carcasses  ; 
Or  daughters  groaning  o'er  their  fathers'  hearses  ; 
And  I  can  dwell  there,  and  with  these  keep  consort 
As  musical  as  theirs.     What  can  you  look  for  35 

From  an  old,  foolish,  peevish,  doting  man 
But  craziness  of  age  ? 

Cal.     Cousin  of  Argos, — 

Near.  Madam  ? 

Cal.  Were  I  presently 

To  choose  you  for  my  lord,  I'll  open  freely 
What  articles  I  would  propose  to  treat  on 
Before  our  marriage. 

Near.  Name  them,  virtuous  lady.     40 

Cal.     I  would  presume  you  would  retain  the  royalty 
Of  Sparta  in  her  own  bounds  ;  then  in  Argos 
Armostes  might  be  viceroy  ;  in  Messene 
Might  Crotolon  bear  sway  ;  and  Bassanes — 

Bass.     I,  queen  !  alas,  what  I  ? 

Cal.  Be  Sparta's  marshal  :     45 

The  multitudes  of  high  employments  could  not 
But  set  a  peace  to  private  griefs.     These  gentlemen, 
Groneas  and  Hemophil,  with  worthy  pensions, 
Should  wait  upon  your  person  in  your  chamber. — 
I  would  bestow  Christalla  on  Amelus.  50 

She'll  prove  a  constant  wife  ;  and  Philema 
Should  into  Vesta's  Temple. 

Bass.  This  is  a  testament  ! 

It  sounds  not  like  conditions  on  a  marriage. 
Near.     All  this  should  be  performed. 
Cal.  Lastly,  for  Prophilus, 


ACT    V.     SCEiVE  in.  113 

He  should  be,  cousin,  solemnly  invested  55 

In  all  those  honours,  titles,  and  preferments 
Which  his  dear  friend  and  my  neglected  husband 
Too  short  a  time  enjoyed. 

Cro.  I  am    unworthy 

To  live  in  your  remembrance. 

Euph.  Excellent  lady  ! 

Near.     Madam,  what  means  that  word,  "  neglected 
husband  "  ?  60 

Cal.     Forgive    me  : — now    I    turn    to    thee,   thou 
shadow 
Of  my  contracted  lord  !     Bear  witness  all, 
I  put  my  mother's  wedding-ring  upon 
His  finger  ;  'twas  my  father's  last  bequest. 

\^F laces  a  ring  on  the  fitiger  of  Ithocles. 
Thus  I  new-marry  him  whose  wife  I  am  ;  65 

Death  shall  not  separate  us.     O,  my  lords, 
I  but  deceived  your  eyes  with  antic  gesture, 
When  one  news  straight  came  huddling  on  another 
Of  death  !  and  death  !  and  death  !  still  I  danced  for- 
ward ; 
But  it  struck  home,  and  here,  and  in  an  instant.       70 
Be  such  mere  women,  who  with  shrieks  and  outcries 
Can  vow  a  present  end  to  all  their  sorrows, 
Yet  live  to  court  new  pleasures  and  outlive  them  : 
They  are  the  silent  griefs  which  cut  the  heart-strings ; 
Let  me  die  smiling. 

Near.  'Tis  a  truth  too  ominous.         75 

Cal.     One  kiss  on  these  cold  lips,  my  last  !  {Kisses 
Ithocles.] — Crack,  crack  ! — 
Argos  now's  Sparta's  king. — Command  the  voices 


IT4  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

Wliich  wait  at  the  altar  now  to  sing  the  song 
I  fitted  for  my  end. 

Near.  Sirs,  the  song  ! 

Dirge. 

Chor.     Glories,  pleasures,   pomps,   delights,   and 
ease, 

Can  but  please  8i 

The  outward  senses,  when  the  mind 
Is  or  untroubled  or  by  peace  refined. 
\st.  Voice.     Crowns  may  flourish  and  decay 

Beauties  shine,  but  fade  away.  85 

znd  Voice.     Youth  may  revel,  yes  it  must 

Lie  down  in  a  bed  of  dust. 
yd  Voice.     Earthly  honours  flow  and  waste, 
Time  alone  doth  change  and  last. 
Chor.     Sorrows  mingled  with  contents  prepare 
Rest  for  care  ;  91 

Love  only  reigns  in  death  ;  though  art 
Can  find  no  comfort  for  a  broken  heart. 
[Calantha  dies. 

Arm.     Look  to  the  queen  I 

Bass.  Her  heart  is  broke  indeed. 

O,  royal  maid,  would  thou  hadst  missed  this  part  ! 
Yet  'twas  a  brave  one.     I  must  weep  to  see  96 

Her  smile  in  death. 

Ann.  Wise  Tecnicus  !  thus  said  he  ; 

"  When  youth  is  ripe,  and  age  from  time  doth  part, 
The  Lifeless  Trunk  shall  wed  the  Broken  Heart." 
'Tis  here  fulfilled. 


ACT    V.     SCENE  III.  1 15 

Near.  I  am  your  king. 

All.  Long  live     100 

Nearchus,  King  of  Sparta  ! 

Near.  Her  last  will 

Shall  never  be  digressed  from  :  wait  in  order 
Upon  these  faithful  lovers,  as  become  us. — 
The  counsels  of  the  gods  are  never  known 
Till  men  call  the  effects  of  them  their  own.     [Exeunt. 


EPILOGUE. 

Where  noble  judgments  and  clear  eyes  are  fixed 
To  grace  endeavour,  there  sits  truth,  not  mixed 
With  ignorance  ;  those  censures  may  command 
Belief  which  talk  not  till  they  understand. 
Let  some  say,  "  This   was   flat  ;  "  some,  "  Here  the 
scene  5 

Fell  from  its  height ;  "  another,  "  That  the  mean 
Was  ill  observed  in  such  a  growing  passion 
As  it  transcended  either  state  or  fashion  :  " 
Some  few  may  cry,  "  'Twas  pretty  well,"  or  so, 
"  But — "  and  there  shrug  in  silence  :  yet  we  know 
Our  writer's  aim  was  in  the  whole  add  rest  11 

Well  to  deserve  of  all,  but  please  the  best ; 
Which  granted,  by  the  allowance  of  this  strain 
The  Broken  Heart  may  be  pieced-up  again. 


NOTES. 


NOTES. 


The  text  of  this  edition  is,  in  the  main,  that  of  Gifford,  as 
amended  by  Dyce. 

The  heavy  figures  refer  to  the  pages  of  the  text;  the  lighter 
figures  to  the  lines. 

Of  the  first  appearance  or  of  the  success  of  the  play,  there 
is  no  extant  account.  The  title-page  of  the  original  quarto  is 
given  in  substance  below  : 


THE 
BROKEN 
HEART. 


A    Tragedy. 


ACTED 

By  the  KING'S  Majcfties  Scruaiits 
at  the  priiiate  Houfe  in  the 

BLACK-FRIERS. 


Fide  Honor. 


LONDON: 

Printed  by  I.  B.  for  HVGH  BEESTON, 

and  are  to  be  fold  at  his  shop,  neere 
the  Caftle  in  Corne-hiU.     i6}}. 


The  motto,  Fide  Honor,  appears  on  several  other  of  Ford's 
title-pages.  It  is  an  anagram  of  his  own  name  as  he  sometimes 
spelled  it,  lohn  Forde. 


120  THE  BROKEN  HEART. 

The  tragedy  was  dedicated  to  ' '  the  most  worthy  deserver  of 
the  noblest  titles  in  honour,  William,  Lord  Craven,  Baron  of 
Hampsted-Marshall."  This  nobleman  who,  according  to  Gifford, 
is  "now  chiefly  remembered  for  his  romantic  attachment  to  the 
Queen  of  Bohemia,  daughter  of  James  I. ,"  was  born  in  1609,  gained 
considerable  renown  for  his  military  exploits  while  yet  a  youth, 
and  having  been  closely  attached  to  three  monarchs,  Charles  I., 
Charles  II.,  and  James  II.,  died  an  earl  at  the  advanced  age  of 
eighty-eight  years. 

3.  Ford,  not  always  seen  to  an  advantage  in  prologue  or  epi- 
logue writing,  is  here  at  his  best. 

3:11.  Commerce.  The  common  Elizabethan  accent.  One  of 
the  rules  for  accentuation  then  followed  is  thus  laid  down  by  Ben 
Jonson  :  "All  verbs  (and  nouns  derived  from  them)  coming 
from  the  Latin,  either  of  the  supine  or  otherwise,  hold  the  accent 
as  it  is  found  in  the  first  person  present  of  those  Latin  verbs." 

3:15.  Fiction.     The  quarto  reads  a  y?f/zV«. 

4.  The  following  quaint  characterization  of  the  various  person- 
ages in  the  play  is  used  by  Ford  in  the  original  edition.  He  calls 
it  :   "  The  Speaker's  names,  fitted  to  their  Qualities." 

Amyclas,  Common  to  the  Kings  of  Laconia. 

Ithocles,  Honour  of  Loveliness. 

Orgilus,  Angry. 

Bassanes,  Vexation. 

Armostes,  an  Appeaser. 

Crotolon,  Noise. 

Prophilus,  Dear. 

Nearchus,  Young  Prince. 

Tecnicus,  Artist. 

Hemophil,  Glutton. 

Groneas,  Tavern-haunter. 

Amelus,  Trusty. 

Phulas,  Watchful. 

Calantha,  Flower  of  Beauty. 

Penthea,  Complaint. 

Euphranea,  Joy, 

Christalla,  Crystal. 

Philema,  a  Kiss. 


NOTES.  12  1 

Grausis,  Old  Beldam. 

Persons  included. 

Thrasus,  Fierceness. 

Aplotes,  Simplicity. 

5.  The  opening  scene  between  Orgilus  and  his  father,  Crotolon, 
is  admirable,  in  that  we  have  set  before  us  at  the  very  outset  the 
relation  that  so  many  of  the  principal  actors  in  the  drama  bear  to- 
ward one  another. 

5:8.  Areopagite.  "  Member  of  the  highest  judicial  court  at 
Athens.     Its  sessions  were  held  on  Mars'  Hill."     {Webster.) 

6:18.  Broached.  Let  out,  give  vent  to.  The  quarto  has 
branch' t  which  Weber  erroneously  renders  "  transfixed." 

6:29.    Conve'rse.     See  3  in  • 

7:65.   Resolve.     Is  determined,  convinced. 

7  :  67.   Sort.     Come  about,  fall  out. 

1  am  glad  that  all  things  sort  so  well. 

IShich  Ado  about  Nothing,  V.  iv.  7. 

8 :  87.  Compare  witli  Laertes'  advice  to  Ophelia  :  Hamlet, 
Act  1.  sc.  iii.  Of  this  interview  between  brother  and  sister  Gifford 
says  :  "  Orgilus  seems  to  entertain  some  suspicion  of  Ithocles  ;  but 
the  exaction  of  such  a  promise  appears  not  altogether  consistent  in 
one  who  had  just  been  describing  the  misery  of  his  own  suffer- 
ings from  the  power  and  influence  of  a  brother." 

9  :  109.     Contents.  Contentedness,  satisfaction. 

10:  118.  Change  fresh  airs.  Orgilus  evidently  does  not  believe 
in  "  change  of  air  "  as  a  cure  for  mental  illness. 

II  :  35.  Ithocles,  as  he  appears  in  the  play,  is  hardly  the  man 
the  words  of  Orgilus  in  the  opening  scene  would  lead  us  to  expect. 
Experience  seems  to  have  tempered  his  ambition,  and  while  he  is 
still  self-centered  and  masterful,  it  is  clear  that  regret  for  his 
' '  pride  of  power "  has  effected  a  change  for  the  better  in  his 
character. 

13 :  66.  Provincial  garland.  A  wreath  of  honor  which  the 
ancients  bestowed  upon  those  who  added  a  province  to  the  empire. 

13  :  83.    Voicing.     Proc 

14 :  89.  Fit  slights.  Trifling,  slight  services,  referred  to  in  befit- 
tingly  humble  terms.  Ithocles  here  shows  a  modesty  that  is 
scarcely  anticipated  after  Orgilus'  description  of  him. 


122  THE    BROKEN  HEART. 

l6 :  134.  Tkrum.  Weave.  Thrum  literally  is  the  tufted  end  of 
weavers'  threads. 

"  O  Fates,  come,  come,  cut  thread  and  thru)!!." 

Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream.,  V.  2gi. 

17:  I.  Compare  Tecnicus  with  Friar  Lawrence  in  Romeo  and 
Juliet. 

17:  6.  Aspect.     See  3  :  ii. 

18:37.   Secure.     Certain,  sure. 

19:52.  Niceness.  Prudishness  :  viz.,  "  in  starting  trivial  and 
unimportant  objections."     {Gifford.) 

21 :  92.  Tenters.  A  frame  withiiooks  for  stretching  and  drying 
cloth  that  has  been  wet  or  dyed. 

21 :  97.   Oratory.     Study. 

21 :  102.  Orgilus  puts  on  this  fantastic  air  to  avert  suspicion. 
His  words  are  not  a  bad  satire  upon  the  sometimes  ingenious  but 
always  over-wrought  speeches  of  the  euphuists  of  Elizabeth's  day. 
See  Osric,  Hamlet,  Act  V.  sc.  ii. 

22:  116.  Meiv.  "  A  term  of  the  schools,  used  when  false  con- 
clusions are  illogically  deduced  from  an  opponent's  premises." 
{Gifford.) 

22  :  125.  Grammates.  This  may  be  a  sneering  term  referring  to 
grammar.  Taste  the  grammates  would  seem  to  mean  "get  the 
slightest  knowledge  of  the  simplest  facts." 

25 :  I.  It  is  quite  possible  that  by  exaggerating  the  infirmity  of 
Bassanes  Ford  thought  to  throw  the  patience,  purity,  and  loveli- 
ness of  Penthea  into  stronger  relief.  We  can  excuse  the  drama- 
tist for  the  coarse  language  which  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  the 
jealous  husband,  knowing  how  the  standards  of  our  time  and  those 
of  the  seventeeth  century  differ,  but  we  can  hardly  overlook  the 
sudden  and  wholly  unexpected  change  which,  a  little  later,  comes 
over  this  ridiculous  and  revolting  character.  The  sudden  transfor- 
mation from  absurd  jealousy  to  doting  fondness  is  scarcely  con- 
ceivable. 

25  :  12.   Springal.     Youth. 

26:26.   Cull.     Embrace. 

2fi'.i\t^.  Meived.     Shed,  moulted.     A  falconer's  term. 

27  :  69.  Pearls.     A  dissyllable. 


NOTES.  123 

29:113.    Goodly  gear.     Matter. 

Here's  goodly  gear. 

Romeo  and  Juliet.,  II.  iv.  107. 

30  :  125.   Co  Hops.     Small  pieces  of  flesh. 
30:129.   Caroches.     Coaches. 

31  :  134.  Tympany.  From  the  Greek  word  meaning  kettle- 
drum.    It  is  here  used  to  signify  a  sense  of  confusion. 

31 :  14S.  Railed  at  the  sins.  The  original  reading  which  was 
changed  by  Gilford  to  "  saints,"  and  thus  retained  by  Dyce. 

32 :  3.  Seeled  dove.  A  dove  that  has  been  blinded  by  sewing 
the  eyelids.  This  wanton  inhumanity  was  once  regarded  as  sport. 
The  dove,  as  described  in  the  text,  would,  on  being  loosed,  soar 
upward  until  exhausted,  and  then  fall  lifeless  to  the  earth. 

32:  12.  It  physics  not,  etc..  Compare  with  Macbeth,  V.  iv.  40. 

33:22.  Meat.     Gifford  conjectures  "  bait." 

34:  52.  Extremes.     The  quarto  reads  "extremities." 

34»55-  Current.  An  expression  common  with  tlie  old  drama- 
tists.    So  above,  Act  I.  scene  ii.  line  84. 

35  :  So.  Demur.     Delay. 

37  c  118.  Whoreson.  An  adjective  applied  not  only  to  persons, 
but  to  anything,  as  a  term  of  reproach  or  dislike. 

38  :  5.  This  line  is  slightly  corrupted.     Weber  reads  : 

To  such  alacrity  as  once  his  nature. 
39 :  20.  It  is  impossible  for  Orgilus  to  disguise  his  admiration 
and  passion  even  under  the  affected  language  of  the  schoolmen. 
Penthea,  however,  is  not  suspicious  of  his  identity,  attributing  his 
words  not  to  any  subtle  intention,  but  rather  to  wild  vagary. 
Her  whole  attitude  throughout  this  trying  interview  is  one  that 
commands  the  highest  admiration,  and  awakens  the  deepest  pity 
as  well.  Torn  as  her  bosom  is  with  conflicting  emotions,  it  is  the 
wife,  to  whom  honor  above  all  else  is  sacred,  who  speaks  in  every 
word. 

39  :  30.  On  Vesta's  altars.  A  badly  mutilated  passage  amended 
by  Gifford.     The  original  is  hopelessly  confused,  as  will  be  seen 

by  the  following  : 

"  As  the  incense  smoking 
The  holiest  altars,  virgin  tears  (like 
On  Vesta's  odours)  sprinkled  dews  to  feed  'em, 
And  to  increase,"  etc. 


124  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

41 :  76.  Borrowed  shape.  Stock  theatrical  term  for  dress  of 
disguise. 

43:124.  Politic  French.     An  amusing  anachronism. 

44:133.  Aches.     A  dissyllable. 

44  :  134.   Imposthiinies.     Swellings,  inward  sores. 

This  is  the  iinpasthume  of  much  wealth  and  peace, 
That  inward  breaks  and  shows  no  cause  without 
Why  the  man  dies. 

Hamlet,  IV.  iv.  27. 

44  :  135.  Humours.     Temper. 

44 :  149.  Then  let  us  care.  The  quarto  gives  this  speech  to 
Bassanes,  but  manifestly  it  belongs  to  Penthea,  being  a  continu- 
ation of  her  train  of  thought  which  is  broken  in  upon  by  her 
husband . 

46:  3.  Jealous.      Suspicious,  as  frequently. 

47  :  43.  Intrenching  on.     Trenching  upon. 

49  :  I.  Due  praise  has  never  been  bestowed  upon  Ford's  lyrical 
faculty.  Aside  from  Shakespere  and  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
none  of  the  old  dramatists  as  a  whole  excels  him.  Webster  wrote 
one  dirge  which  Ford  never  equaled,  but  the  latter's  note  is  more 
natively  lyrical.  The  song  at  the  opening  of  this  scene,  and  that 
in  Act  IV.  scene  iii.,  may  be  cited  as  admirable  examples  of  his 
art.  To  these  might  be  added  the  following  from  The  Lover  s 
Melancholy,  Act  II.  scene  i.: 

Song. 

Fly  hence,  shadows,  that  do  keep 
Watchful  sorrows  charmed  in  sleep  ! 
Though  the  eyes  be  overtaken, 
Yet  the  heart  doth  ever  waken 
Thoughts,  chained  up  in  busy  snares 
Of  continual  woes  and  cares  : 
Love  and  griefs  are  so  exprest 
As  they  rather  sigh  than  rest. 
Fly  hence,  shadows,  that  do  keep 
Watchful  sorrows  charmed  in  sleep  ! 

51  :  33.  This  scene  between  brother  and  sister  is  one  of  the 
strongest  in  the  drama.  The  remorse  of  Ithocles  at  the  sight  of 
Penthea's  suffering  is  rendered  the  more  poignant  by  the  realiza- 


NOTES.  125 

tion  of  his  own  apparently  hopeless  love.  Penthea,  while  she  can 
not  refrain  from  reminding  her  brother  that  he  is  the  cause  of  her 
sorrows,  shows  her  forgiving  and  sympathetic  nature  in  the  way  in 
which  she  espouses  his  interests. 

50 :  43.  Spleen.  A  word  in  much  more  common  use  in  Ford's 
day  than  in  our  own,  sometimes  indicating  impetuosity,  eagerness, 
sometimes  caprice,  and  sometimes  hate  or  malice. 

52 :  53.  Affections.     Sorrows. 

53 '  87.  Turtles.  Turtle-doves.  The  turtle-dove  was  the  em- 
blem of  faithful  love. 

S3  •  93-  Nearness.  This  word  does  not  occur  in  the  original.  It 
was  suggested  by  Gifford  as  probably  conveying  the  idea  Ford 
had  in  mind. 

54!  Ill-  I Scveat  in  blood  for't.  An  excusable  bit  of  hyperbole, 
considering  the  speaker's  over-wrought  state  of  mind. 

55  :  123.  Property.  "  A  thing  quite  at  our  disposal,  and  to  be 
treated  as  we  please."     {Stevens.) 

Do  not  talk  of  him 
But  as  a  property. 

Julius  Casar,  IV.  i.  40. 

55!  131-  Progress.  "  This  passage  is  not  without  curiosity  as 
tending  to  prove  that  some  of  the  words  now  supposed  to  be 
Americanisms  were  in  use  among  our  ancestors,  and  crossed  the 
Atlantic  with  them.  It  is  not  generally  known  that  Ford's 
county,  Devonshire,  supplied  a  very  considerable  number  of  the 
earlier  settlers  in  the  colonies."     [Gifford.) 

55  :  144.   Springal.     Youthful.     See  25  :  12. 

56 :  149.  Franks.  The  figure  is  taken  from  the  word  "  frank  " 
which  means  a  small  enclosure  in  which  boars  were  fattened. 

56:155.  Megrims.     Whims,  fancies.     Firks=irt2ik%. 

57 ''  167.  Pandora's  box.  Pandora  was,  according  to  Greek 
mythology,  the  first  created  female.  The  story  of  her  having  been 
the  cause  of  the  introduction  of  evil  into  the  world  is  thus  told  by 
Anthon  :  "  Jupiter,  incensed  at  Prometheus  for  having  stolen  the 
fire  from  the  skies,  resolved  to  punish  men  for  this  daring  deed. 
He  therefore  directed  Vulcan  to  knead  earth  and  water,  to  give  it 
human  voice  and  strength,  and  to  make  it  assume  the  fair  form  of 
a  virgin  like    the  immortal  goddesses.     He   desired  Minerva  to 


126  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

endow  her  with  artist  knowledge,  Venus  to  give  her  beauty,  and 
Mercury  to  inspire  her  with  an  imprudent  and  artful  disposition. 
When  formed  she  was  attired  by  the  Seasons  and  Graces,  and 
each  of  the  deities  having  bestowed  upon  her  the  commanded 
gifts,  she  was  named  Pandora  (all-gifted).  Thus  furnished,  she 
was  brought  by  Mercury  to  the  dwelling  of  Epimetheus,  who, 
though  his  brother  Prometheus  had  warned  him  to  be  on  his 
guard,  and  to  receive  no  gifts  from  Jupiter,  dazzled  with  her 
charms,  took  her  into  his  house  and  made  her  his  wife.  The  evil 
effects  of  this  imprudent  step  were  speedily  felt.  In  the  dwelling 
of  Epimetheus  stood  a  closed  jar  which  he  had  been  forbidden  to 
open.  Pandora,  under  the  influence  of  female  curiosity,  disre- 
garding the  injunction,  raised  the  lid,  and  all  the  evils  hitherto 
unknown  to  man  poured  out,  and  spread  themselves  over  the 
earth.  In  terror  at  the  sight  of  these  monsters,  she  shut  down  the 
lid  just  in  time  to  prevent  the  escape  of  Hope,  which  thus  re- 
mained toman  his  chief  support  and  comfort."  The  source  of 
this  account  is  Hesiod. 

58 :  206.  This  line  was  amended  by  Gifford.  The  original 
reads 

To  outdo  art,  and  cry  a  jealousy. 

59:  13.  Nearchus  is  a  fair  type  of  the  noble  suitor  whose  pres- 
ence is  necessary  for  the  development  of  the  plot,  but  whose  part 
is  as  difficult  as  it  is  thankless,  for  Calantha  openly  snubs  him  at 
the  first  opportunity. 

60 :  34.  Marriage.     A  trisyllable. 

60 :  36.  Tastes  of.  An  expression  that  has  passed  from  use, 
though  "  savours  "  in  the  same  sense  is  still  not  uncommon. 

61 :  44.  This  meeting  between  Ithocles  and  Orgilus  is  exceed- 
ingly well  carried  out,  the  former  really  desiring  to  make  amends 
in  so  far  as  possible  for  the  wrong  done  in  the  past,  the  latter  for 
his  own  hidden  purposes  veiling  his  hatred  and  appearing  to  meet 
his  enemy  halfway. 

61 :  59.  Engrossed.     Mastered. 

63  :  19.   Condition.     Disposition. 

63:21.  While  in  the  preceding  speech  Orgilus  refers  to  by- 
gone injuries,  it  is  only  here  that  he  allows  his  deep  resentment  to 


NOTES.  'i.Z'l 

flame  forth  for  a  moment,  so  complete  a  command  has  he  over 
himself. 

65  :  58.   Smooth.     Kindly. 

67 :  7.  Penthea,  in  this  most  touching  scene,  seems  to  have  a 
clear  presage  of  her  impending  fate.  It  is  indeed  a  bold  stroke, 
the  "  bequeathing,"  as  she  puts  it,  of  her  brother  to  Calantha,  but 
it  proves  successful,  as  the  outcome  shows,  though  at  the  time 
Calantha  must  needs  hide  her  real  thoughts  by  calling  in  her  wait- 
ing women.  Penthea's  plea  for  Ithocles  is  a  most  moving  appeal 
of  a  noble  and  forgiving  mind  that  is  upon  the  verge  of  being 
forever  darkened. 

68:42.  Beshreza.  Originally  a  very  mild  term  of  imprecation, 
though  occasionally  used  in  a  stronger  sense. 

68:43.  Thou  turns' (  me  too  much  woman.  Shakespere  twice 
makes  use  of  "  woman  "  in  the  same  sense  : 

IVolsey.     Cromwell,  I  did  not  think  to  shed  a  tear 
In  all  my  miseries  ;  but  thou  hast  forced  me, 
Out  of  thy  honest  truth,  to  play  the  -woman. 

Henry  VIII,  III.  ii.  429-431. 

Laertes.     Too  much  of  water  hast  thou,  poor  Ophelia, 
And  therefore  I  forbid  my  tears.     But  yet 
It  is  our  trick  ;  nature  her  custom  holds, 
Let  shame  say  what  it  will  ;  when  these  are  gone. 
The  woman  will  be  out,, 

Hamlet,  IV.  vii.  184-188. 

69  :  62.  One  of  Ford's  finest  lines. 

72:4.  I  am  7tot  what  you  doubt  me.  What  you  suspect  me 
to  be. 

72  :  15.  A  man  of  sittgle  meaning.  One  without  deceit,  open, 
sincere. 

73:  21.    .    .    .   grace  my  hopes  with  any  instance 
Of  livery. 

That  is,  bestow  upon  me  some  mark  of  your  favour. 

Gifford  is  of  the  opinion  that  this  expression  was  derived  from 
the  fact  that  the  retainers  of  great  families  were  accustomed  to 
wear  badges,  upon  which  the  crests  of  their  respective  houses  were 
emblazoned  or  stamped. 


128  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

74  :  34.  Out.  Of  it.  A  common  contraction  more  euphonious 
than  of  't. 

74  :  38.   Contents.     See  9  :  109. 

74  :  44.  Increments.     Augmentation,  increase. 

75  :  69.  As  a  punishment  for  his  temerity,  Ixion  was  hurled  by 
Jupiter  into  Erebus,  and  there  fastened  to  an  ever-revolving 
wheel. 

76  :  82.    Your.     An  appelative. 

76 :  87.  Fustian.  The  word  here  has  a  meaning  akin  to  smooth- 
ness. Velveteen  is  sometimes  called  "  fustian,"  hence,  perhaps,  the 
figure. 

76 :  88.  Less.  This  word  does  not  occur  in  the  quarto.  It  was 
inserted  by  Gifford  as  necessary  to  the  sense. 

77  :  102.  Colt.  This  was  a  term  not  infrequently  applied  in 
Ford's  time  to  those  in  whom  rudeness  and  folly  were  combined. 
It  is  quite  possible  that  the  dramatist  may  here  have  had  in  mind 
some  tapestry,  or  "  painted  cloth,"  upon  which  he  had  seen  repre- 
sented the  very  figures  he  mentions. 

77 :  116.  "  The  extraordinary  success  with  which  the  revengful 
spirit  of  Orgilus  is  maintained  through  every  scene  is  highly  credi- 
table to  the  poet's  skill.  There  is  not  a  word  spoken  by  him 
which  does  not  denote  a  deep  and  dangerous  malignity,  couched 
in  the  most  sarcastic  and  rancorous  language.  The  bitterness  of 
gall,  the  poison  of  asps,  lurk  under  every  compliment,  which  noth- 
ing but  the  deep  repentance  and  heartfelt  sincerity  of  Ithocles 
could  possibly  prevent  him  from  feeling  and  detecting."     {Gifford.) 

77:118.  Suppling.  The  quarto  has  supplying.  At  best  the 
figure  is  somewhat  confused. 

78  :  120.  The  hurts  are  yet  but  mortal 

Which  shortly  will  prove  deadly. 

Gifford  is  of  the  opinion  that  for  '■'yet  but"  we  should  read 
"yet  not."  If,  however,  we  take  "  mortal"  in  the  sense  of 
' '  serious  "  such  a  change  will  not  be  necessary. 

78:126.   Saw.     Saying. 

78:  141.  I  am  not  (Edipus.  The  reference  here  is  to  the  solu- 
tion by  CEdipus  of  the  riddle  propounded  by  the  Sphinx  which 
Tunohad  sent  to  ravage  the  territory  of  Thebes.  For  the  story  of 
OEdipus  in  full  see  Greek  mythology. 


NOTES.  129 

80:14,  15.  Honeycomb  of  Honesty,  Garland  of  Good-will. 
Popular  miscellanies  containing  stories,  anecdotes,  and  songs. 
The  latter  appeared  in  1631. 

80  :  17.  Moil :  Mule. 

80  :  24.  Quintessence.  A  term  much  used  by  alchemists.  The 
fifth  essence  which  the  Greeks  who  were  followers  of  Pythagoras 
added  to  the  four  recognized  elements,  fire,  air,  water,  and  earth. 

81 :  54.  Practice.     Try  my  patience. 

81 :  58.  This  scene  should  be  compared  with  Hamlet,  Act.  IV. 
scene  iv. 

82  :  6g.   Dyce  thinks  there  is  a  slight  corruption  in  the  te.xt  here. 
82 :  71.    Turtle.     See  52 :  87. 

83  :  99.  Whining  gray  dissimnlation.  So  Milton  in  Paradise 
Regained  : 

He  ended  here  ;  and  Satan,  bowing  low 
His  gray  dissimulation — 

83  :  100.  Show  justice,  etc.  Orgilus  here  loses  control  over  his 
feelings,  and  shows  openly  the  intensity  of  his  hatred,  though 
Ithocles  appears  to  think  the  words  are  addressed  to  Bassanes. 

83:103.  Antic  rapture.  Foolish  passion.  Possibly  there  mav 
be  some  reference  to  the  stage  rant  of  the  jealous  husband  or 
lover. 

83:105.  Motion.     Puppet,  image. 

84  :  III.  My  heart  too.  A  corruption  in  the  text,  one  or  more 
lines  having  been  dropped. 

84  :  1 19.  Points.     Tagged  laces. 

84:125.  This  line  shows  that  whatever  Orgilus  may  have  had 
in  mind  up  to  this  time,  however  he  may  have  hesitated,  all 
doubts  and  scruples,  if  he  entertained  any,  are  cast  aside.  From 
this  point  he  is  settled  in  his  deadly  determination,  and  there  is  no 
wavering  in  his  line  of  action, 

85  :  144.  O,  my  wrecked  honour,  etc.  Though  one  may  not  alto- 
gether agree  with  Giflord's  view,  his  comments  upon  this  speech 
of  Penthea's  are  not  without  interest.  "  The  transition  of  Pen- 
thea  from  the  wandering  insanity  which  had  marked  the  previous 
part  of  her  discourse  to  the  deep  but  composed  melancholy  of 
what  follows,  is  surely  too  sudden  and  may  seem  to  throw  some 
suspicion   on  the  reality,  not  of  her  sufferings  and  despair,  for 


130  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

these  are  too  strongly  marked  for  doubt,  but  of  her  abberration  of 
mind  ;  and  indeed  it  cannot  be  concealed  that  this  lovely  and 
interesting  woman  has  a  spice  of  selfishness  in  her  grief,  and 
approaches  somewhat  too  nearly  to  Orgilus  in  the  unforgiving  part 
of  his  character.  Even  her  last  words  are  expressive  of  resent- 
ment." 

89 :  6.  Delphos.  The  oracle  at  Delphi  was  one  of  the  three  most 
celebrated  in  Greece,  and  was  consulted  upon  all  important  occa- 
sions. The  oracular  responses  were  delivered  by  the  Pythia 
(priestess)  after  she  had  inhaled  the  vapor  arising  from  the  sacred 
cave  or  fissure.  The  customary  an^biguity  of  oracular  prediction  is 
well  preserved  by  Ford  in  the  prophecy  that  follows.  In  order 
that  the  veracity  of  the  deity  might  not  be  impeached,  the  priest 
(or  priestess)  took  care  that  every  statement  made  by  the  oracle 
should  be  susceptible  of  a  double  meaning. 

94:129.  Ithocles  is  too  wrapped  up  in  his  own  happiness  to 
dream  of  anything  save  perfect  frankness  and  friendliness  in 
Orgilus,  who,  in  this  scene,  with  great  subtleness  draws  his 
doomed  enemy  into  his  toils. 

95.  The  engine  mentioned  in  the  stage  directions  was  simply  an 
ordinary  chair  to  which  two  movable  arms  were  attached.  Ford, 
like  the  author  of  The  Devil's  Charter,  Barnaby  Barnes,  who 
employs  the  same  mechanism,  doubtless  got  it  from  one  of  the 
tales  of  the  Italian  writer  Bandello. 

97  :  25.   Ford's  mythology  here  is  apparently  of  his  own  inven- 
tion.    The  sisters  of  Phaeton,  three  (or  seven)  in  number,  were  so 
grieved  at  the  death  of  their  brother  that  they  were  changed   into 
poplars  on  the  bank  of  the  river  into  which  the  ill-fated  youth  fell. 
97  :  2g.    Turtle.     Turtle-dove,  as  before. 

97 :  39.  The  courage  with  which  Ithocles  meets  his  fate  is  as 
truly  Spartan  as  the  heroism  of  Calantha  in  the  following  act. 
The  contrast  between  his  calm  acceptance  of  death  and  the  bit- 
terly revengeful  spirit  which  Orgilus  has  up  to  this  point  har- 
bored is  a  fine  stroke  on  Ford's  part.  Ithocles  in  a  moment  is 
transformed  into  a  hero,  and  we  see  him  towering  over  his  exe- 
cutioner in  nobility  of  character,  forgiveness  putting  revenge  to 
shame. 

97  :  42.    Tent.     Widen,  probe. 


NOTES.  131 

100:13.  Splay-footed.  Spread-footed,  having  an  abnormally  flat 
foot.  Some  of  the  omens  here  enumerated  were,  in  Ford's  time, 
held  in  superstitious  dread  not  only  by  the  ignorant  but  also  by  the 
more  learned. 

lOI :  36.  Index.  The  index  hand  (  E^"  )  which  was  often  used 
upon  the  margin  of  old  books  to  call  special  attention  to  some 
passage  or  paragraph. 

lOl  :  42.  Resoltite.     Assured. 

102.  Hazlitt  is  of  the  opinion  that  the  second  scene  of  this  act 
was  suggested  by  the  mask  scene  in  Marston's  Malcontent. 

105  :  48.  Abiliment.     Ability. 

105 :  49.  Fie,  Orgilus  I  The  word  fie  must  formerly  have  had  a 
stronger  meaning  than  at  the  present  day  else  this  exclamation, 
and  the  one  which  follows,  would  be  nothing  short  of  ridicu- 
lous. 

105  :  54.    Convinced.      Refuted. 

107 :  100.  "  In  performing  the  operation  of  bleeding,  formerly 
so  common,  the  arm  was  bound  above  the  spot  selected  in  order  to 
distend  the  veins.  For  the  same  reason  the  patient  grasped  a 
staff."     {Ellis:) 

108  :  109.  Fillet.     An  unusual  but  striking  use  of  the  word. 

108 :  109.  Grammercy.  Literally  many  thanks.  (F.  grand- 
tnerci.)     An  exclamation  usually  indicative  of  surprise. 

109:  125.  Broached.      See  6  :  18. 

109:142.    Cunning.     Skill  in  arms. 

110:155.  The  dignity  with  which  Orgilus  meets  his  end  can 
hardly  fail  to  command  our  respect,  if  not  our  admiration.  How- 
ever much  we  may  censure  him  for  his  malignant  and  unforgiving 
spirit,  when  once  his  revenge  is  accomplished  his  demeanor  takes 
on  a  tinge  of  something  exalted. 

1 10.    The  riff^r^/ev-^  mentioned  in  the  stage  directions  for  the 
third  scene  of  this  act,  were  instruments  similar  to  the  flute. 

"  I  do  not  know  where  to  find  in  any  play  a  catastrophe  so  grand,  so  solemn, 
and  so  surprising  as  this  [of  The  Broken  Heart\.  This  is  indeed,  according  to 
Milton,  to  '  describe  high  passions  and  high  actions.'  The  fortitude  of  the 
Spartan  boy  who  let  a  beast  gnaw  out  his  bowels  till  he  died,  without  express- 
ing a  groan,  is  a  faint  bodily  image  of  this  dilaceration  of  the  spirit  and  exenter- 
ation of  the  inmost  mind,  which  Calantha  with  a  holy  violence  against  her 
nature  keeps  closely  covered,  till  the   last  duties  of  a  wife  and  a  queen  are  ful- 


132  THE   BROKEN  HEART. 

filled.  Stories  of  martyrdom  are  but  of  chains  and  the  stake ;  a  little  bodily 
suffering  ;  these  torments 

On  the  purest  spirits  prey 

As  on  entrails,  joints,  and  limbs, 

With  answerable  pains,  but  more  intense. 

What  a  noble  thing  is  the  soul  in  its  strength  and  in  its  weaknesses !  Who 
would  be  less  weak  than  Calantha  ?  Who  can  be  so  strong  ?  The  e.xpression 
of  this  transcendent  scene  almost  bears  me  in  imagination  to  Calvary  and  the 
Cross  ;  and  I  seem  to  perceive  some  analogy  between  the  scenical  sufferings 
which  I  am  here  contemplating,  and  the  real  agonies  of  that  final  completion 
to  which  I  dare  no  more  than  hint  a  reference." 

— Charles  Lamb. 

"  Of  all  last  scenes  on  any  stage,  the  last  scene  of  this  play  is  the  most  over- 
whelming in  its  unity  of  outward  effect  and  inward  impression.  Other  tragic 
poems  have  closed  as  grandly,  with  as  much  or  more  of  moral  and  poetic 
force  ;  none,  I  think,  with  such  solemn  power  of  spectacular  and  spiritual 
effect  combined.  As  a  mere  stage  show  it  is  so  greatly  conceived  and  so  tri- 
umphantly wrought  out,  that  even  with  less  intense  and  delicate  expression, 
with  less  elaborate  and  stately  passion  in  the  measure  and  movement  of  the 
words,  it  would  stamp  itself  on  the  memory  as  a  durable  thing  to  admire  ; 
deep-based  as  it  is  on  solemn  and  calm  emotion,  built  up  with  choice  and 
majestic  verse,  this  great  scene  deserves  even  the  extreme  eulogy  of  its  greatest 
critic." 

— Algernon  Charles  Sivinhiirne. 

114:82,  83.   Lines  four  and  five  of  the  Dirge,  which  deserves 
considerable  praise,  were  slightly  amended  by  Gifford. 


jEwQliBb  IReaMnos  tor  Stu&ent5. 

This  collection  is  planned  to  supply  English  master- 
pieces in  editions  at  once  competently  edited  and  inex- 
pensive. The  aim  will  be  to  fill  vacancies  now  existing 
because  of  subject,  treatment,  or  price.  The  volumes 
will  be  of  convenient  size  and  serviceably  bound. 

Coleridge :  Prose  Extracts. 

Selections  chosen  and  edited  with  introduction  and  notes  by  HenrV 
A.  Beers,  Professor  in  Yale  College,  xxix  +  148  pp.  i6mo. 
Boards.     Teachers'  price,  30  cents  ;  postage  4  cents  additional. 

The  selections,  varying  in  length  from  a  paragraph  to 
ten  or  twenty  pages,  will  be  mainly  from  Ta^/e  Talk  and 
Biographia  Literaria,  but  also  in  part  from  T/ie  Friend, 
Notes  on  Shakspeare,  and  other  writings.  They  have 
been  chosen,  so  far  as  may  be,  to  illustrate  the  range  and 
variety  of  Coleridge's  thought,  and,  to  emphasize  this 
purpose,  have  been  grouped  by  subjects.  The  introduc- 
tion briefly  summarizes  the  author's  intellectual  position 
and  influence. 

De  Quincey :  Joan  of  Arc  and  The  English  Mail 
Coach. 

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Professor  in  Cornell  University,  xxvi  +  138  pp.  i6mo.  Boards. 
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These  essays  have  been  chosen  as  fairly  representative 
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I 


English  "fadings  for  Siiideiits. 


features  of  his  style.  Allusions  and  other  points  of  un- 
usual difificulty  are  explained  in  the  notes.  This  volume 
and  the  one  containing  the  Essays  on  BoswelVs  Johnson 
(see  below)  are  used  at  Cornell  University  as  foundation 
for  elementary  rhetorical  study. 

Dryden :  Select  Plays. 

Edited  with  a  brief  introduction  and  notes  by  James  W.  Bright, 
Assistant  Professor  in  the  Johns  Hopkins  University.  About  loo 
pp.      i6mo.     [/« preparation.^ 

Aside  from  their  representing  the  principal  literary  ac- 
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writers,  Dryden's  plays  have  a  peculiar  interest  in  having 
been  among  the  first  to  be  played  upon  the  reopening  of 
the  theatres  under  Charles  II. 

Goldsmith :  Present  State  of  Polite  Learning. 

Edited  with  introduction  and  notes  by  J.  M.  Hart,  Professor  in 
Cornell  University.     About  loo  pp.     i6mo.     [/« preparation^ 

There  are  many  reasons,  some  of  them  obvious,  for 
giving  this  essay  a  place  in  the  English  Readings  series. 
One  that  may  be  mentioned  is  the  remarkably  clear 
insight  it  affords  into  the  entire  eighteenth-century  way 
of  criticising.  The  introduction  and  notes  will  direct 
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Lyly :  Endimion. 

With  introduction  and  notes  by  George  P.  Baker,  Instructor  in 
Harvard  College.     i6mo,  pp.  cxcvi  +  109. 

Lyly's  plays  really  show  him  to  a  better  advantage  than 
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and  his  place  in  English  dramatic  history  makes  it  de- 
sirable that  one  at  least  should  be  easily  accessible. 


English  "^'jJiiigs  for  Students.  3 

Macaulay  and  Carlyle  :  Croker's  Boswell's  John- 
son. 

The  complete  essays,  with  brief  notes  and  an  introduction  by  James 
Morgan  Hart,  Professor  in  Cornell  University.  A  preliminary 
edition,  without  notes,  is  now  supplied.  93  pp.  i2mo.  Boards. 
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These  parallel  treatments  of  Croker's  editing,  and  of 
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essays  present  a  constant  contrast  in  intellectual  and 
moral  methods  of  criticism  which  cannot  fail  to  turn  the 
attention  of  students  to  important  principles  of  biographi- 
cal writing,  while  equally  important  principles  of  diction 
are  impressively  illustrated  in  the  two  strongly  marked 
styles.  The  essays  also  offer  an  excellent  introduction 
to  the  study  of  the  literary  history  of  Johnson's  times. 

Marlowe  :  Edward  II.     With  the  best  passages  from 
Tamburlaine  the  Great,  and  from  his  Poems. 

With  brief  notes  and  an  introductory  essay  by  Edward  T.  Mc- 
Laughlin, Professor  in  Yale  College. 

Aside  from  the  intrinsic  value  of  Edward  IT.,  as  Mar- 
lowe's most  important  work,  the  play  is  of  great  interest 
in  connection  with  Shakespere.  The  earlier  chronicle 
drama  was  in  Shakespere's  memory  as  he  was  writing 
Richard  II.,  as  various  passages  prove,  and  a  comparison 
of  the  two  plays  (sketched  in  the  introduction)  affords 
basis  for  a  study  in  the  development  of  the  Elizabethan 
drama.  Since  Tamburlaine  has  really  no  plot  and 
character-development,  extracts  that  illustrate  its  poeti- 
cal quality  lose  nothing  for  lack  of  a  context.  The 
unobjectionable  beginning  of  Hero  and  Leander  is  per- 
haps the  finest  narrative  verse  of  the  sixteenth  century. 


English  l^eadings  for  Students. 


Specimens  of  Argumentation,     I.  Classic. 

Chosen  and  edited  by  George  P.  Baker,  Instructor  in  English 
in  Harvard  College,  and  Non-resident  Lecturer  on  Argumentative 
Composition  in  Wellesley  College.  [Iti  preparation. ^ 

Specimens  of  Argumentation.     II.  Modern. 

Chosen  and  edited  by  George  P.  Baker.  i6mo.  186  pp. 
Boards. 

This  compilation  includes  Lord  Chatham's  speech  on 
the  withdrawal  of  troops  from  Boston,  Lord  Mansfield's 
argument  in  the  Evans  case,  the  first  letter  of  Junius, 
the  first  of  Huxley's  American  addresses  on  evolution, 
Erskine's  defence  of  Lord  George  Gordon,  and  an  ad- 
dress of  Beecher's  in  Liverpool  during  the  cotton  riots. 
The  choice  and  editing  has  been  controlled  by  the  needs 
of  the  courses  in  "  Forensics"  in  Harvard  College.  The 
earlier  selections  offer  excellent  material  for  practice  in 
drawing  briefs,  a  type  of  such  a  brief  being  given  in  the 
volume.  The  notes  aim  to  point  out  the  conditions 
under  which  each  argument  was  made,  the  difficulties  to 
be  overcome,  and  wherein  the  power  of  the  argument 
lies.  It  is  thought  that  the  collection,  as  a  whole,  will 
be  found  to  contain  available  illustrations  of  all  the  main 
principles  of  argumentation,  including  the  handling  of 
evidence,  persuasion,  and  scientific  exposition. 

■    HENRY  HOLT   &   CO.,   Publishers,   New  York. 


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